In the Absence of Belief, He Plays
by BonGarland
Summary: Short sequel to Lithasblot and Old Lace. In the several months following Hoder's defeat, recovery efforts have brought Darcy and Loki significantly closer. Now, on the eve of Yule, a cosmos-wide summit is in Asgard. But a sinister being has his sights set on the attendees, and the duo must again solve a dangerous mystery before the clock runs out for the victims. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! Fall quarter is drawing to a close, and my spare time equals reading material for you guys! This is a brief-ish followup on the tail of Lithasblot and Old Lace, taking place during the Christmas season of the _next _year. Darcy's been in Asgard a while, and she and Loki are pretty cozy with each other now. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Once, he had been feared.

Grossly-embellished tales, spread far and wide and elaborated upon at every turn, spread through households in medieval Europe like wildfire, stoking his own ego in the process.

The black, curved claws were longer with each retelling, the red shade of the eyes more fiery with each teller's additions. And the punishments bestowed upon the children – they curdled the blood of listeners more with each rehashing.

Once, he had been Krampus, the night-dwelling counterpart of the one whom they called Santa Claus. The dark figure lurking in the shadows, the child-thief, devourer of juvenile mortals, balancer of behavior among peasants and royals for centuries.

And now? He was bored. Belief in him, as with so many things the mortals claimed to live by, was dwindling, found few and far between in this age that they dared call "modern" on Midgard. He was discarded, left in the closet of human memory, just as honor and chivalry had been.

It was his own fault, he supposed, choosing to prefer mortal children; but a change was needed, he thought. New meat. And he knew just where to get it.

* * *

"I just don't know if there's _enough_," called out Darcy Lewis, flipping a feathered quill through her fingers and biting her lip as she evaluated the massive sections of holly garnishing the halls of a wing of Asgard's palace.

"Milady, there is an equivalent of an entire Midgardian mile in each corridor and wing," began Kvasir, the equivalent of an executive assistant to the new Asgardian reign, and currently, Darcy's unwilling co-conspirator in a massive decorating scheme across the Palace and its grounds. "While Yuletide is indeed a highly-valued concept in our realm, I just do not think, in light of forthcoming events, that we need focus on such…frills…"

"Oh, I do love a chance to crack open the mead!" Bellowed a loud voice, approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.

"Volstagg!" Yelled Darcy, jumping into the bear hug awaiting her. When she'd pried herself loose with a rarity of only maybe _one _bruised rib, she rubbed at her side absently, pointing with the quill in her other hand to the decorations spread over the intermittent archways adorning each corridor. "D'you think it's…Christmasey enough?"

The husky warrior stood back, hand on his beard in an appraising gesture. "Hmm…I don't think I've ever seen this scale of, what did you call it, Christmas?" He clapped a large hand down on her shoulder, the mortal diplomat only wincing slightly at the impact. "Well done, Lady Darcy. _This _year, we'll have our spirit back."

Darcy's smile faltered a little at that, watching the warrior start to whistle a random tune as he continued down the corridor.

It was true, life in Asgard had been less than easy in the past sixteen months since Hoder's coup and subsequent downfall, and it had only been recently that Darcy herself had even recovered sufficiently, in her mind, to try to restore some cheer. Yule had provided the perfect excuse, and she'd quickly marshaled an army to harvest decorations and plaster them over any and all available surfaces within the palace. Holly sprigs, garland imported from Earth, wreaths made of fragrant lavender and rosemary, and other bits that could be found were promptly strung, hung, and pinned around the palace.

She was somewhat cautiously awaiting the verdict from the throne of Asgard, and she figured she didn't have long to wait. At least she had the pleasure of being right, the thought providing little comfort as a rustling sounded from down the hall and behind her, her ears by now knowing the sound of leather rubbing against woven fabric, and the jangle of sheathed daggers.

Kvasir paled a little at the expression on the trickster god's face as he approached Darcy from behind, and the human sighed, cinching her eyes closed with a quick grimace before swiveling on her feet, the quill lowered to her side and hitting her jean-clad thigh with a nervous staccato.

"Your Majesty," she said in a bored tone, sketching a curtsy that was probably more disrespectful than if she hadn't made a move at all.

Loki's glacial gaze was on the decorations as he came to a stop in front of her, eyes skyward even as he waved a dismissive hand at Kvasir. The little red-headed traitor promptly skittered away, a length of holly falling at his exit. Darcy glared at his retreat, darting over to re-secure the adornment.

"Lemme guess," she started warily, back still to Loki. "You don't like Christmas. Yule. Whatever. Maybe Hanukkah's your thing?" She ended hopefully, turning to find Loki had done that creepy teleportation thing and was now _right _up in her face, green eyes glittering with…something in their depths. She swallowed hard, trying not to fidget under the scrutiny.

"I was about to say I thoroughly approved," came the smooth accent from above her head, a cool hand reaching out to pluck at a ringlet draped across her shoulder. She brightened, just as he added, "But something is missing."

Her eyes fell, but his hand transferred to her chin, tilting it upwards to make her blue eyes meet his green. "I seem to recall reading something, oh, three hundred years ago or so-" his eyes crinkled with humor at mention of the 'senior citizen times a thousand' status Darcy often referred to, "about mistleltoe?"

Darcy's lips twisted into a pout, even as she tilted her cheek to lean further into his touch, her free hand snapping her fingers. "Knew I forgot something," she muttered. "Whatever will we do, my king?" She ended in a low murmur, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Until we procure some with all haste, I suppose we shall have to…pretend," Loki said with a shrug, bringing his other hand up between them and snapping his own fingers. With a gleam of green light that quickly died away, a sprig of mistletoe revealed itself, dangling from the archway they stood beneath.

"My oh my, Loki's a romantic," Darcy exclaimed, leaning in so their foreheads touched, bumping her nose gently against his. "Alert the media."

He caught her lips with his, both hands now gently cupping her face. With a small noise of contentment, she dropped the quill in her hand, fisting the lapels of his long coat in her hands to drag him closer. He responded with one hand leaving her face to twist itself into her thick curls, his feet edging her backwards and against the hallway's stone wall.

Straying from her mouth, his lips traced a line of kisses across her cheek and down her jaw line. When they reached her neck, her legs faltered beneath her and she leaned further into his frame for support, eyes shut.

A hand came behind her back to support her even as he pulled away, grinning apologetically. "That does remind me…Do we not have an envoy of said media arriving any minute now?"

Darcy groaned, pushing her face into his leather-clad chest and hitting it several times. "Noo," she murmured into his jacket's depths, even as a loud buzzing disrupted the quiet of the corridor. As she muttered something about bureaucrats and feeding the earthly newspaper monster, Loki reached for her back pocket, retrieving her phone while his other hand rubbing soothing circles against her side.

"It's only a few days," he said gently. "I scarcely want them here any more than you do, but what did everyone say to my ideas of a Loki-led dictatorship?" That drew a grin from her, even as she brought the vibrating gadget to her ear. "Hello, this is Ambassador Lewis."

A tinny voice sounded from the other end, on some rant about the logistics of the arrival of the team of journalists who would be covering the summit that started in Asgard in two days, and Darcy rolled her eyes. Loki's brows raised in disinterest, and he opted to amuse himself as she listened to the droning, dragging his lips across her temple and the ear that wasn't pressed to her cell phone. A sharp gasp from Darcy had her conversational partner asking if anything was wrong, and Darcy's eyes shut in consternation, grinning fiercely as Loki's hand wandered from her hip and along her ribcage.

"Everything's fine, I just, ah, stubbed my toe," she ground out into the phone. "Running around Asgard, you know, lots of errands to prepare for the…arrivals." Loki pulled back with a cheshire cat grin, and she slapped a reprimanding hand flat against his chest, smiling through her annoyance.

"Yes, sir. Yep. No, you can tell Secretary Jefferson that I am calling the shots here. There's a whole sort of etiquette to this realm, and suitable behavior is very different here." Loki's teeth grazed her ear, and she shuddered against him, the hand that was still against his chest clenching in the material there. "I sent over several documents on what to expect, and I'm not handling the fallout of one pigheaded politician's decision to burp in the midst of a meeting of this level." Never mind that burping was the soundtrack to Volstagg's life, and he attended most of their meetings. It was fun to keep Midgard on its toes. "You know what? If he doesn't have time to peruse the information I sent, that's his own problem. It won't be a sword at _my _throat. Tell the Secretary I'll see him when he gets here."

Tearing the phone from her ear and hurriedly ending the call, Darcy wrinkled her nose at the device. "They won't ever fire me, right?" Loki, who now had his hands fisted in the material of her shirt at her waist, tugged her closer, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Of course not," he replied instantly. "Asgard would have no one else in your position." She smiled, pressing her face into his neck as he nuzzled against her hair. "You do, however, have a slight problem with back-talking figures of authority," he conceded into her ringlets, and she giggled into his shoulder. "Now, I suppose we should head to the Bifrost and ensure those reporters don't fall off, mm?"

"Would be a tragedy," Darcy agreed, making a face, and they turned as one to head down the hallway, a quick word from Darcy ensuring that a passing servant would spread the word to continue decorating where she'd left off. Loki tucked her into his side as they rounded the corner, and she gave a habitual nod of respect to a painting of Frigga hanging on the wall to her left before pulling out her phone to again double-check arrival times.

The Bifrost was the new Heathrow, and she'd just become the new head of Customer Service, she thought with a sigh.

* * *

Yggdrasil was no easy tree to climb, the dark one conceded; only certain gnarled branches were accessible by foot, the others requiring significantly more climbing finesse, and a bit of magic here and there.

Up and up, across and around he went, navigating the roots and branches that fluctuated between shades of bright green and black, the passage of time nothing to him in his focus. Glimpses of the realms, times, and places he passed flickered past his vision as he climbed, battles both ongoing and long lost appearing and disappearing as he left their branches behind.

He licked his lips in anticipation of the meals ahead as he climbed. Muspel children, already charbroiled; Jötun children, like little popsicles for dessert; and Midgardian children, the main course, with their fat-filled diets plumping them up perfectly. The cheeks were the best part, he mused, cresting another large arc in Yggdrasil. It was a rare case indeed, when specimens of those varying sorts were gathered in one place, and it just so happened that he had heard tell of such a gathering, happening soon, in the golden realm.

Little did they know, they were supplying him with a fully-stocked buffet. And if the realms tore each other apart in the wake of his actions, what did he care? He'd have a full stomach and be ready for a nice, long nap.

Distracting himself with different recipes for cooking the children of different realms, he almost missed the limb he was looking for; with a sheen of gold covering the dark green moss, it was obviously the route to Asgard. Krampus grinned, a full set of knifelike fangs on display, and switched courses, heading for that path, and the door made of gold and bright oak at the end of it.

* * *

It was the second summit that Asgard had hosted since the new relations had begun after the siege of Hoder, and larger than the first. Darcy was not looking forward to it, but earth was really starting to feel the effects of resource consumption and global warming, and that was where Asgard would come in. The golden realm would act as a go-between, as Jötunheim had offered a potential partnership with Midgard, to help combat melting glaciers and warming oceans. It was risky, but the details that needed hammering out – no pun intended, though Thor would be there – were of the highest importance if Jötuns were to be granted access to earth.

It was Thor's turn to act as king at the moment, but Darcy, Jane and Loki functioned as his thinking machine – some of the finer details in dealings like this had escaped him in the past, leaving them frantic to clean up behind him.

He and Jane were late, she noted with annoyance, glancing around the golden chamber and seeing only her assistants and the other representatives whose presence she'd requested – Freja was standing with arms crossed, bored, and the Warriors Three were debating amongst each other what would be on the banquet table tonight. Sif stood to one side, hand on the hilt of her sword, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with Darcy, whose contact, she had made clear, was utterly unacceptable, no matter if she was yawning or making out with Loki. Couldn't be friends with everyone, the ambassador had conceded a while ago, and she no longer took it personally. She had a job to do.

And so Darcy pasted a welcoming grin on her face from where she stood, just inside Heimdall's post at the Bifrost, ready to greet a platoon of reporters who would cover the event for Midgard. She was glad, in a way, that this summit had fallen on the calendar where it did – she'd extended an offer for diplomats and envoys to bring their families along, and let them experience Yuletide in Asgard. Hopefully the atmosphere would be a little cheerier, with small voices filling the halls alongside all the decorations she'd demanded.

Loki had extracted his arm from hers when they'd arrived at the Bifrost, disappointed at the absence of contact, but knowing they had to remain professional and above reproach while these new relations between the realms were still so new. The last thing he needed was an accusation of bewitching Midgard's live-in ambassador to his realm, really, and while they weren't in the habit of concealing their association around Asgard, it was agreed that they couldn't be all over each other when reporters and shrewd senators were breathing down their necks, looking for a loose thread to pull on.

The seasons in Asgard were an odd thing, the climate remaining fairly temperate all year round, but Freyr, an elderly scholar who had a knack for influencing such things, had been persuaded to concoct a "winter" of sorts for the summit. Really, Darcy had just wanted an excuse to wear cute coats and scarves, although she'd forgotten any such apparel in the rush of things today, and was shivering in the strong breeze that forever accompanied the Bifrost. Noticing her discomfort, Loki flicked his hand furtively, and one of Darcy's favorite peacoats, a deep green one, appeared on her. It was also his favorite, and he inclined his head with a wink at her smile of thanks.

"Any time now," Heimdall intoned, his overall attitude much less stoic than before the Coup. Loki liked to believe they might even be "bros", as Darcy often insisted they ought to be, after everything.

Shifting impatiently on his feet, Loki absently drew a dagger, flipping it in his hands in a whirlwind of movement that came easily to him. A throat cleared to his left after a moment, and Darcy arched her brows meaningfully when he looked to her, her eyes on the blade in his hand. "Might not be the best impression," she said. "Reporters are sharks, and you fiddling with a sharp weapon at first sight is gonna be blood in the water for 'em, Loke."

He smiled ruefully at her nickname for him, pocketing the weapon. He didn't understand her reference, but the gist of it was clear. She nodded in approval before seeming to remember something, patting at the pockets of her newly-summoned coat. "D'you know where I left my iPad? It has the roster on it…" A blink later and it was in her hands. "Never gonna get tired of that. Convenience, man…" She trailed off, scrolling swiftly through the device and pulling up the document she was looking for, just as the Bifrost jolted, brilliant golden light filling the dome they stood in.

"Merry Chr- I mean, seasons greetings!" She chimed weakly at the sight of a group of bewildered mortals, shakily regaining their feet and looking around wildly. One had to remain politically correct even in other realm, after all.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! ~Bon**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sooo, I am well aware everyone wanted a little more hubba hubba, a little more oomph, between Loki and Darcy in Lithasblot and Old Lace. Well, realistically, if we think about the time table in that fic...I mean, it took place over maybe a week, and they didn't have a lot of spare time. So, I've explored their intimacy much more in this fic, Merry Christmas and Happy Yule, tasertricksters! **

**On a side note, I've toyed with how gruesome I want to get with Krampus and his _dealings _with the children, here, and I think I'm going to try and keep it a little more PG. That being said, Darcy and Loki happy time might bump up the rating. Also, Eir is back! Anyhoo, enjoy!**

* * *

Cameras were flashing, microphones being pulled out for unwilling Asgardian interviewees, and Darcy was already getting a headache. She'd made sure to identify everyone who arrived, and there were already attendees who hadn't been cleared. It was a red-taped nightmare.

"Right, everyone?!" She called loudly, clapping to try to get their attention. When that didn't work, Loki, who'd stayed out of the limelight and was now pacing behind her, banged a newly-summoned Gungnir on the Bifrost to silence them all.

A dozen pairs of eyes turned her way, and she blushed, faltering. "Um, if you can all follow me – the palace where you'll be housed is this way…This is kind of the bus stop here, and you don't wanna be in the way." She turned and started striding briskly out of Heimdall's dome, rolling her eyes at an amused Loki as she passed. He fell into step behind her, and finally the carriages were in sight.

A journalist behind her squealed at the sight of perfectly-groomed Asgardian horses waiting to convey them to different areas of the palace, and Darcy tried to rein in her annoyance; everything was just old hat to her, at this point, and she'd been so amazed on her first visit, too. Trying to tap into that enthusiasm, she waved pairs of people into each awaiting conveyance, and when the last ones had set off, hooves clapping against the colorful stone, she heaved a sigh, slumping in on herself where she stood.

"That's the last of 'em," she said, ticking something off on her iPad with a swipe of a finger, and closing the screen with a clicking noise. "The next envoy is the journalists' children, and that's Idunn's problem, she _loves _'em. They'll be here within the hour."

"And now, your personal chariot awaits, milady," came Loki's voice, light with humor, and she turned to see him already mounted on a single horse that had waited behind, his personal mount. "Join me?" He asked, a hand proffered, and she didn't need to be asked twice, bounding up and grasping his cooler hand in her warm one.

He brought his other hand around, lifting her easily with it on her waist, and settled her in front of him, keeping one arm firmly around her and giving the horse a command with a click of his tongue. Edging backwards on the horse, Darcy leaned back into him, glad he kept the horse at a mere trot; it gave them a much more leisurely trip back to the palace, and he even had it take a scenic route through the gardens. Ipad cradled in her left hand, she kept her right linked with his, enjoying the quiet moments before the whirlwind of activity that was a diplomatic meeting began.

"Your room?" Loki asked quietly, and she nodded, running a hand through her hair. "Gotta get ready for the introduction dinner, and make sure of our timetable for the arrival of the _important _people tomorrow."

"You'll wear the green lace, right?" He asked, a smile in his voice, and Darcy pretended to consider. "Hmm, that thing that I had made that I've never had an excuse to wear? I guess I could give it a go."

When he helped her down outside the garden arbor that led to her set of rooms, she blew him a kiss, removing her coat as she headed inside. A chilly wind blew right across her as soon as the coat was off, and she stopped short, hesitantly glancing around. It wasn't her fault, but she'd maintained some of the more cautionary tics she'd picked up as a result of being embroiled in the Coup, as it was simply referred to these days. Squaring her shoulders when nothing appeared, she continued inside, boots rapping quietly against the flagstone. Reaching her room, she pulled out the be-spelled stone that served as her key, so no one but Loki, if he had a mind to, had access, and waved it across the latch.

The door creaked ajar and she gave it a shove, throwing her coat on the first available surface, a wingback chair just inside the room. She called a greeting to Muninn, the raven who'd taken up residence with her, dozing peacefully on his perch high in a corner of the room, and he gave a sleepy caw in reply. He'd been up as late as her for the past several nights, keeping her company as she perfected the plans for the meetings, and she supposed it had taken more of a toll on the bird. Either that, or he was being a lazy bum and didn't want to attend tonight's dinner.

She'd had the pick of anything in the realm for furnishing her rooms, the ones that had previously been Frigga's, a fact that half-bothered her at any given moment. She was assured the woman would be proud to know who held her space now, but it was still weird, and so she'd changed most of the furniture, and the color scheme, everything taking on a bluish tinge, instead of the rose and cream of Frigga's space.

Flopping onto her bed, draped in cheerful mint coverings, Darcy pried her boots off, her jeans and blouse following them to the ground. If anyone in Asgard still found her clothes odd, they'd never mentioned it, and she _swore _she'd spotted Fandral wearing clingy black skinny jeans one night. Darting to the generously-sized walk-in closet, she rifled through several bars of eveningwear, a sort of clothing she now boasted a lot of, thanks to her ambassadorial position. Finally, with a ha! of triumph, she found the lace confection Loki had mentioned. She had lost a significant amount of weight after the Coup, and it had stayed away, to the dismay of her old wardrobe, but everything in here always fit perfectly.

The dress in question was a long-sleeved form-fitting thing, knee-length with solid layers of frilly green on the torso and skirt, the sleeves just a single, clinging layer of lace that tapered to her wrists. She brought it out to the main room, glancing between it and the bath chamber, wondering if there was time. Hastily pulling her hair up with a clip, she decided on a quick shower, and ten minutes later was pinning her wayward curls into some semblance of a chignon.

The dress, she decided, need one last bit of something, and so she added a thin, black belt around her ribs, tightening it and stepping up to her floor-length mirror. When she'd done all she could with her appearance, she sighed, retrieving the iPad she'd also carelessly tossed aside, staring at it hard. Did she _need _to work tonight? Setting it aside, she then surveyed her phone, wondering just _how _late the current king of Asgard and his lady were going to be.

"Janeee," she groaned, picking it up and checking for any messages. "Killing me, girl," she continued to herself, seeing nothing. Sending a quick message of her own – R U READY? - she locked the phone, patting her person to check for any pockets, of which she knew there'd be none. "Okayy, bra or…" She muttered, having no clue where she could store the device. There would be mead consumption tonight, she was sure, and didn't want to have to deal with a clutch or purse amidst everything else. Shoving it into the side of her neckline, she hoped it wasn't too visible, and called it good, sliding on some sling-back black heels before making for the banquet hall.

She'd had a bit of say in the remodeling, because apparently no one in Asgard had any clue what a welcoming color scheme was, and gold was the default décor of intimidation. The realm had to appear on fairly even footing with its counterparts if any of this was going to work – the Coup had done that, at least, brought Asgard down a few notches – and so Darcy had recommended a lighter color code, the walls in the main dining hall now a warm tan.

The effect was nice, she thought, reflecting candle and sconce light well as she entered. All of the guests had first been distributed to their rooms to freshen up and direct how their luggage would be dealt with, and so she was one of the first to arrive, servants bustling to and fro, various Asgardians wandering around to direct the proceedings.

She tugged unconsciously at the hem of her dress before approaching Fandral, who looked dashing as always, in a gold leather jerkin tonight over tight brown leather breeches. "Evening, Robin Hood," she said in greeting, and he grinned, acknowledging the nickname with a dramatic bow that almost sent his sword scabbard knocking over a collection of tankards behind him. Darcy laughed at the spectacle he made, Volstagg chastising him fiercely over his "assault of the very things that will supply us with _mead_", Hogun respectfully silent behind them as always.

Rounding the other end of the table, Darcy suddenly felt warmed from head to toe, and knew he had spotted her. "You're doing it again," she called, waggling a finger in warning as she approached Loki. The trickster was leaned casually against a pillar, one knee crooked back so his boot propped against it, arms folded as he monitored the hall's activity.

"Doing what?" He inquired with such an expression of innocence that Darcy had the urge to pinch his cheek. She couldn't easily reach it, anyways, even in these heels, and she settled for positioning herself next to him, folding her own arms across her chest. The gesture enunciated her neckline, and she could feel his appreciative gaze like a physical touch. "Not now, buddy," she warned playfully. "Tonight, we have to chaperone!"

"Remind me again why this event is so ill-timed?" His normally-fluid tones were petulant and whining, childlike, and she elbowed him gently. "Because there's this complicated thing called a fiscal year back on Midgard, and basically big decisions have to get made before the year is out. We're reaching crisis mode back there, in terms of resources and environmental strife, so we have to step in and offer intergalactic aid, otherwise this partnership's headed south pretty quickly."

He stopped listening after the first few words, enjoying the feel of her arm and shoulder brushing against his, but he nodded thoughtfully when she finished. "Ah, I remember."

Several high-pitched squeals sounded, then, ricocheting off the ornate walls of the hall, and Darcy braced herself. Asgard was not particularly accustomed to children being around – the amount of time it took to age into an adult was nothing to an Asgardian lifespan, and there just never seemed to be anyone in the growing stages. She hoped it wasn't awkward.

A pack of five children raced into sight, three boys and two girls, and she felt Loki shift beside her. Darting a sideways glance at him, she saw his brows were raised, tracking the children's progress as they gasped and circled the banquet tables, already being heaped with food.

"Afraid of cooties?" She teased, bumping her hip against his with a wide smile. He looked at her, eyes warming as he met her smile. "Nothing frightens the god of mischief and trickery," he said ominously, as if reciting a passage from one of the old tomes in Eir's library. He probably was.

The Healer herself chose then to enter, and Darcy quickly called her over with a gleeful shout. She'd missed the Healer, who had stayed behind on Earth when Darcy had returned to Asgard to set up shop. She'd done something with her hair, Darcy noted as the ageless Healer approached – was that _highlights? _– and Darcy embraced her with a squeal of her own.

"You are looking marvelous, Lady Darcy," Eir said, holding her at arms' length and studying her frame from head to toe. "You haven't been sneaking into Idunn's orchard, have you?"

Darcy gave a crooked smile at the implication, shaking her head. "Drastic life decisions happen one at a time, and few and far between, for me. I've filled my quote for a bit," she assured the Healer, taking the chance to eye Eir's own garb. She was wearing – well, a lot of strings of beads, and some sort of drapey tunic-dress, belted with…Oh, god, yarn? "You, uh, look like you spent your vacation time well?"

"Oh yes," Eir replied in her soothing tones. "California quite agreed with me."

"Ah-ha," Darcy said in realization, pasting a smile on her face and trying not to laugh at the obviously-hippie turn the Healer's immortal life had taken. "Right, well, we have strategic seating arrangements tonight, let me show you…" She took Eir's arm, leading her to her place, and Loki finally let loose the snort of laughter he'd been holding in since Eir appeared, propelling himself from the pillar and finding his own place, dodging running children as he did so.

* * *

A more pleasing turnout than he had hoped for, thought Krampus, peering out at the festivities from a floor-level grate in the banquet hall. The trickster was not the only one who could wander undetected, and this shadow-lover had several tricks up his sleeve to do so.

Cat-like yellow eyes peered eagerly from his perch, searching, until they landed on a few of the specimens he was looking for. His claws reached for the grating before he remembered himself, pulling back and settling for drinking in the sight of squealing mortal children, chasing each other through the banquet hall before the proceedings began.

A small, red-sneakered foot crossed his vision, close, so very close that were the thin metal screen not in his way, he could have reached out and snatched the small ankle as it passed by. Soon, he placated himself, soon. Tonight, in fact. The chaos of new arrivals, and the allure of a new place, would easily disguise his actions. The children would go exploring and simply not return. It was perfect, he thought, knitting his claws together.

A sudden loud call summoned the guests to order, and everyone began taking seats as ordered by cursive-lettered cue cards at each place setting. The woman in charge seemed to be a mortal, he thought with disdain, eyeing the curvy brunette as she stood next to the mischief god. They were clueless and unorganized, despite the roster he'd seen her monitoring earlier; it would easy to mask his activities with poor planning on her part, of course.

The shaggy, charcoal-colored fur that adorned his body stood on end for a moment as he froze. The trickster was blinking confusedly, his gaze roaming the hall, and as they glanced over the hiding place of the monster, iridescent yellow eyes clamped shut, trying to conceal their gleam. After a moment, they cinched open again, pleased that the trickster seemed not to have found whatever had him looking about suddenly.

With a low, growling chuckle, Krampus quietly edged backwards, burrowing further into the unused catacombs that ran beneath the castle. Soon, he would strike.

* * *

The only hiccup so far had been some reporter's loud dismay that there was so much _meat _on the table, and they were vegetarian, and they disapproved _so _strongly, blah, blah, blah. Darcy had intervened, wondering when the hell she became a public relations agent on top of her other duties, shoving potatoes, salad, and anything else she could find towards the complaining woman. Then she'd switched Fandral's seat with the woman's neighbor, assuring her that the swashbuckler would attend to any and all of her needs at dinner tonight. Fandral's face had been priceless as the dowdy, older woman had smiled coquettishly, abandoning her complaints in favor of batting her lashes at her new companion.

_Finally_, Jane and Thor had arrived via a private Bifrost trip, taking their own paired seats at the other end of the table, Thor quickly grabbing a tankard of mead and downing it.

The mead was flowing steadily, and several of the mortals had probably had too much, but maybe that would guarantee her some good publicity back home, Darcy thought, gesturing for a serving-girl to fill up every goblet in sight. She was feeling pleasantly light-headed herself, her chair inching closer to Loki's after every few sips, until she could reach out her hand under the table and link their fingers.

At a height in conversational loudness in the room, she leaned closer to him, speaking sidelong. "How much longer before we call it, d'you think? I mean, am I a legit hostess? Why isn't Jane the hostess? Do hostesses, like, hostess til the end or?"

"I think perhaps you could feign fatigue and retire, and I, as a gentleman, could escort you to your room," Loki shot back, quaffing the remaining contents of his own goblet, and waggling his brows at her over the rim.

"You're right!" She squealed, looking around for someone sober who could take over. "Freja!" The chief of the Valkyries was at her side in a moment, her eyes unclouded by alcohol. "Darce?" The Asgardian asked quietly, leaning in to hear Darcy's request.

"D'you think you could take over, um, direct everyone and stuff? I have a…headache, you know, preparations and stress and stuff," Darcy managed to only half-slur. The Valkyrie, who'd become fast friends with the former intern, nodded, lips curling upward in a half-grin as she looked from Darcy to Loki. "Sure thing, Darce. You go rest up."

Clasping her hands together in thanks, Darcy stood, somewhat unsteadily; she'd clearly stress-chugged more mead than she'd thought, eyeing the three empty tankards at her place. A steadying hand was on her elbow in an instead, the cool presence of Loki at her side instantly.

"You're like a spiritual mint," she muttered drunkenly, a giggle leading to a hiccup fit as he led her swiftly from the table. "I've no idea what that means, but I shall endeavor to accept it as a compliment," Loki assured her, switching hands and latching an arm around her waist as she wobbled dangerously. Tugging her to his side once they had cleared the banquet hall, he paused, looking up and down the hallway. "My room or yours, Milady?"

Darcy was already prying insistently at the leather straps adorning the chest of his Asgardian finery, forehead crinkled as she tried to work out the fastenings amidst the haze of mead in her system. "'S long as you kick the ravens out," she muttered. "Creepy to have them in the room."

"Huginn retired to the aviary earlier today, he assured me," Loki said with a low laugh, tugging her closer.

"How you talk to birds is beyond me," she said with a shrug, eagerly falling into his embrace. A flick of a wrist later, and they were in his chambers, the four-poster bed with its olive-green coverings looking more than tempting, and she jabbed a finger in its direction eagerly.

"I think someone's fairly intoxicated," came Loki's low reprimand as he rested his chin on her head, holding her in place for a moment. She reached a hand upward, an automatic response that aimed to straighten her glasses indignantly, something she still hadn't gotten out of her system since her myopia had been magically cured. "I am _not_," she whined, flattening her palms against the material on his shoulders and slowly dragging them downward. "You're just…wearing too many clothes."

"Oh, and the fabric is clouding my judgment, I imagine?" He asked, humoring her unsteady words.

"Yep, judging your cloudment," she said breathily, leaning up on her tiptoes, her fingers skipping across his chest to again try tackling the ins and outs of his outfit. As she stretched up, he leaned down, skimming his mouth down her cheek and to the juncture of neck and shoulder.

"Well, maybe your own apparel is affecting _yours_," he breathed against her skin, Darcy's hands faltering, fingers clenching into the leather.

"Yes, you're right," she huffed into his shoulder, as his hands moved from her hips to her ribs, swiftly unfastening the belt that cinched around her waist, and tossing it aside. "Constricting."

His hands moved back up her sides, pausing, puzzled, when they met resistance near the top of her ribs. "What…"

"Oh, phone," she assured him dismissively, tugging the device from her bosom and shrugging before throwing it towards a side table, glad it had been magically enhanced against breakage. "Your turn, tricky," she whispered, tugging at the lapels of his coat, and he shrugged it off, leaving him in the crisscrossed leather of his tunic.

His hands reached for the zipper of her dress, carefully pulling the pins from her mane of curls as he went, moving the locks aside before tugging at the metal fixture that fastened the lace around her like a glove. She leaned closer, their lips meeting as he peeled the material from her shoulders and gently down her arms. The dress finally ended in a heap on the floor, and he walked her out of its folds and towards the wall. Left in her heels and a thin black shift, she cut quite the figure, and his hands roamed down her sides, gripping her waist and lifting her onto a side table.

Darcy moaned loudly as his lips left hers, her legs moving to cage him between her thighs as he left a trail of hot kisses down her neck. Her hands tore at the tunic he wore, and suddenly it was gone, her eyes greeted by the pale chest that could've been carved from marble, and the sharp-cut shoulders forever accentuated by the damn coats he chose to wear. That left him in tight leather trousers that did little to conceal his desire for her, and her own loose shift was feeling pretty confining.

Darcy's breath hitched anew when a long-fingered hand slipped beneath the hem of her slip, creeping slowly up her thigh. "Loki," she mumbled breathlessly. "Bed. Now."

He finally raised his head, attention diverted from lavishing her neck with bites that were soon after soothed by his tongue. "What's that, darling?" He asked with a wicked grin, and the ensuing frustration heated her body even more. She scooted forward, encasing him even closer between her legs, locking her ankles around him as her lips sought his jaw line.

The teasing stopped when his own breathing was too ragged for words, Darcy's plump lips capturing anything he might have said as they wandered down the pale column of his throat. With a quick gesture, they were on the bed, Darcy pressed back into the sheets with her legs still pinning him to her.

"Door is locked, right," she brought up, words catching in her throat as his wandering hand found what it was looking for. A choked gasp of pleasure was caught by his lips, returning to hers, as his other hand pulled at the straps of her slip. A gleam of green flashed in the corner of the room where the door was located, and she was assured, before his distracting hand stole her attention. "Now it is," he spoke against her lips, as her hands helped him divest them of the silk and leather barriers between their bodies.

* * *

In the early hours of the morning, a heavy banging at the door to Loki's quarters had Darcy mumbling incoherently, begrudgingly raising her head from the pillow as his arm unwrapped itself from around her, and he quickly summoned clothes before answering it. Groggily, she propped herself up on an elbow on the pillow, blinking furiously to regain enough consciousness to understand what was happening.

Loki shared quick words with what sounded like Freja, uncharacteristically ruffled, and then he was closing the door, pinching the bridge of his nose as he crossed the room to return to the bed.

"What's up?" She asked sleepily, curling back into his side as he laid back down, a frown on his face. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, his eyes on the ceiling.

"It seems one of the Midgardian children has wandered off in the night. They're certain he was just exploring and took a wrong turn, but apparently one of the children is insisting a monster is to blame, that they saw it."

"Probably just a nightmare because they're in a strange new place. Freja has organized a search?" Darcy asked, and he nodded, pressing a kiss to her hair. "If there is any trouble, I'll sort out a locator spell. In the meantime…" He drawled, easing her onto her back and trailing his mouth from her neck to her décolletage, "I think my skills are needed elsewhere."

* * *

It had been easy, far too easy, almost disappointing, really, the monster reflected, eyeing the quivering bundle of burlap that was lying in his impromptu lair, whimpering intermittently.

One falsified call from what the child had perceived as its mother, with a treat for it, and the boy had come running, disregarding the worried calls of its peers. Naughty, naughty. That required punishment, responding to bait like that.

Krampus licked his lips, looking over the size of his catch, housed within its sack for the time being, and decided that it was not enough to consume yet. No, he could make a nice stew with several, their bones giving the broth that extra something, and he could ration better that way.

He would wait for the official groups to arrive, and with them, some exotic flavors, he thought, running a forked tongue of one of his lengthy claws, still tasting of the contact with the child as he'd snatched it from the corridor.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! ~Bon**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi, guys. Absolutely distraught about the delay here - it couldn't be helped.**

**I've been angry - very, very angry at an anonymous review blatantly accusing me of plagiarism of this plot and its key figures. To the lovely individual gifted with being the target of my rage, I say this: I have no clue to which works you are referring, whether they are other fics or published works, and I have purposely remained in the dark on the matter you refer to, so that I remain even further above reproach on the subject of having stolen those plotlines. Whatever you may think, I know my ideas come from my own head. Also, I believe mythology and deities fall under public domain - another point for me, even if I had prior knowledge of whatever material you were referring to. **

**It's been near-impossible to write with that cloud over my head, and I only find the motivation now so that I might finish this project. though it may not be coherent. I hate leaving things undone, but I think after this I am also announcing my retirement from writing fanfiction. It's time, I think, given recent developments in my life, anyhow. It's not paying the bills, and scathing remarks made by anonymous cowards are absolutely counter-conducive to my writing process. I could filter out said comments, I know this, but they would still have their nasty ideas, even if left unsaid - and so I prefer to take the smoother way out and simply stop feeding them altogether.**

**I thank those of you who have been so awesome with encouraging remarks and followed my work. Hopefully I can wrap this up quickly and move on. XOXO.**

* * *

It was a rushed Darcy Lewis who barely managed to precede a combined crowd of realm diplomats and reporters into the council chambers where the details of the new partnership between Earth and Jötunheim would be decided upon. At least today wasn't one of the main days, those were still to come. Running her fingers through her thick mane to tame it into some semblance of respectability, she quickly ordered coffee, water, and wine to be brought to the room, tugging her blouse into compliance under the blazer she'd thrown on. It was a constant effort to remind herself to dress nicely, not in the henleys, leggings and sweaters she'd often sported as a mere intern. The Asgardian Walk of Shame she'd done this morning hadn't helped the impulse to throw on a sweater and hide.

Sliding into a chair near the head of the table, where Thor would sit as overseer of these negotiations, she elbowed Jane, her neighbor, nodding towards the empty place. "Where's the big guy?"

Jane blushed, reshuffling the paperwork she'd been perusing. "He needed to, uh, refuel. What's _your _excuse for tardiness? This is your show."

"Pardon me, Madame Science, but while we were probably engaged in the same extracurricular activities, _I _am here, while your manwich is not." Darcy narrowed her eyes in a brief, playful glare at Jane, then made a show of turning her nose up and delving into her own paperwork. Scheduled trips of Jötun envoys into Midgard, when they would arrive and where and who would be going…Consultations with every Scandinavian country, as frontrunners in sustainable resource storage and use…Evaluations of the arctic circle and glacial formations near the north and south poles…Climate change and global warming were no longer an issue for her, but the situation back on Earth was very real and grave. If Jötunheim would help, several centuries of damage could be undone.

Sneaking a peek at Jane's paperwork, Darcy was glad she was just more of a referee for these talks. Jane would be involved in attempting to tailor routes the Bifrost could take, limiting Jötunheim's access until a true trust was achieve. There couldn't be ice blade-wielding giants running amok in Seattle or Shanghai. As such, Jane's file was about eight times as thick as Darcy's. Yikes.

At last, Freja was entering, swinging open both weighty doors with little visible effort, leading in a mixed group of Vanites, Muspels, and Jötuns. After the Midgardian envoy that Idunn had greeted was squared away in the guest quarters the evening before, Freja had met a late group of other-realmly guests, those who were here today. It was agreed that for neutrality's sake, given that the negotiations were taking place on Asgard, a few different realms would be invited, for a variance in ideas and input. At the far end of the table, Hogun greeted the Vanites, and Darcy was glad as ever for his quiet presence, which guaranteed a friendly reception for at least some of their guests. The Fire-dwellers and Ice-wielders, however… She rose with a quiet sigh, moving to the end of the room and guiding the representatives of Muspelheim to seats, and then those from Jötunheim. Seats had been chosen in different areas of the room, to stunt any funny ideas the two realms might entertain again.

When Darcy sat down after showing Surtur where to go, she noticed her left hand had clenched painfully into a fist. With effort, she pried it open again, stretching her now-cramped fingers and forcing herself to take a deep breath. Old wounds opened easily, she found, and phantom pains in her abdomen still twinged when she saw either of the elemental demons who'd tried to take the golden realm. And it was simply awkward to see someone like Surtur, king of the fire giants, in a business setting.

A booming laugh sounded from the doorway, and Jane and Darcy smiled simultaneously at the sight of Thor's big blonde head entering. He lightened the mood instantly, never appearing awkward or sheepish at the sight of the same beings who'd put Darcy so on edge, and she was grateful when his calming presence was seated at the head of the table, and they could begin.

Kvasir had quietly accompanied the servers of refreshment into the room, and now slid a goblet of coffee towards Darcy, perfectly prepared to her liking. She mouthed a thank-you at him, and he gestured at the scribe to start recording the meeting. Darcy was proud she'd upgraded the ancient Asgardian to a Macbook, and his fingers lay ready to document their progress. She pulled her iPad across the table and unlocked it, cradling her coffee close.

* * *

He and Darcy had lingered in bed that morning for as long as possible, she regretting her post aloud and wondering if anyone could cover for her, he hoping Freja or Sif would solve their own problems and find the little one that had run off. At last, she'd pried herself loose from his arms, sneaking off to her own rooms to shower and change, and he'd made for his "evil lab", as Darcy called it, where his magical supplies and books were kept.

Rummaging through dried herbs, vibrant powders, and old tomes smelling strongly of the calfskin most of them were bound in, he'd finally found the scroll he was looking for – a grizzled old thing, something he was embarrassed to have to use, feeling like one of the shady sorcerers in old Midgardian films. But he couldn't remember the spell quite by heart, frowning when he realized he'd have to obtain one of the child's belongings to piece together the enchantment. When everything else was sorted, he slipped into the corridor, wondering how best to get into the Earth envoy's quarters. It wouldn't look good if he were caught, so he slipped on a cloaking spell, striding briskly across the grounds to the wing where guests were housed.

But which child? He wondered, spotting a chaperone leading two little girls by the hands around the gardens. It was clear that one of the girls was mortal, and one had the look of a Vanite, judging by its dress. Darcy had said something about the children being escorted to activities all together, to promote good realm relations from early ages. Freja had said the missing child was a little boy, but he'd have to know the particulars to attempt any magical tracking. When the little Vanite girl mischievously slipped away and headed towards the stables, he followed, switching his illusion to the visage of the chaperone, whom she'd recognize and trust.

The little girl wandered inside, squealing at the horses gleefully, earning herself a knicker of condescension or two in return. Magical horses were egotistical at best, he thought, wondering if he'd learned from the best.

"Now, now!" He crowed in the chaperone's nasally tones, earning a start and gasp of fear from the little girl. "What are you doing there?"

"Wanted to see the ponies," the little Vanite muttered, toeing at the dirt with her shoe.

"Don't you know little children shouldn't wander off alone?" Loki scolded in the woman's voice. "Why, one has already gone missing! Do you know about that, little one?"

The girl nodded, tugging at her lower lip with her teeth, fidgeting under the scrutiny. "Do you?" Loki insisted, putting hands on hips and staring until the girl responded.

"Yes, they said a Middian, Timmy Fairfield, met the boogeyman!" The girl finally exclaimed. Loki hoped he was interpreting "Middian" as "Midgardian" correctly. Childspeak was not one of the languages his silver tongue took to easily. "I don't wanna see the boogeyman, just the horsies…"

"Who are poor Timmy's parents?" Loki continued, coming closer and switching his gaze to appraise the horses. "Tell me, and I'll let you see the horses, girlie."

"His mom's from the Inker, or something," the girl said. "We had playtime together yesterday." Loki optimistically interpreted the word as "Inquirer", one of the papers he'd been told was coming to cover the talks. He smiled, shooting a quick glance over his shoulder and seeing the chaperone wandering in their direction, calling for the little girl.

"What's your name?" His disguise asked. "Luna," came the small reply, as the girl stood on tiptoes to try to see over the stall edges.

Quickly he hefted her up to the level of the horses' stalls, letting her pet his favorite, the friendly chestnut who'd taken a liking to Darcy.

A quick memory spell later, and the girl was dashing back to her escort, knowing only that she'd petted one of the pretty horses. He didn't need another moniker of "child predator" hanging about his head.

Loki was eyeing the guest tower where he'd heard from a servant that the Inquirer woman was housed, standing back and grimacing as he thought of how best to steal a toy or something of the boy's. As if on cue, a nasally caw sounded from behind him, preceding the rough landing of Huginn on his shoulder with a jab to his cheek.

"Come to make yourself useful, is that it?" He muttered, disgruntled, as the raven roughly steadied himself, claws renting the leather cloaking Loki's shoulder. It responded with another rough caw, nearly deafening in its proximity, and he winced.

Raven and trickster eyed the tower for a few quiet moments, before Loki spoke as if wondering a thought aloud, only. "I wonder if a raven has the skill to get up there, to Timothy Fairfield's room, and retrieve me something small of his? Probably not, mm?"

Huginn, always more proud than Muninn, shuffled across Loki's neck and shoulder blades to the other side of his face, clacking his beak loudly as if in protest. "What's that, Huginn?" Loki questioned distractedly, turning to leave. The raven alighted from his shoulder, flapping upwards to circle the trickster, annoyed. With one more caw it shot off towards the tower, Loki grinning in the wake of the black bird's desire to prove itself. They were the most intelligent beings of his acquaintance, if not in the realm entire, and he knew it, but the crankier of the two always required goading to accomplish anything of consequence.

Forty-five seconds later, black talons were dropping a single sock into his outstretched hand. The sight of the small garment, not only bereft of its partner but its wearer as well, cut him with a moment of sorrow, though he didn't know why. The child had to be stuck in a tree on the grounds or in some other foolish circumstance, that was all. Huginn cawed softly, uncharacteristically landing on Loki's shoulder and nuzzling briefly against the side of his head. "I know," the trickster said quietly, clenching his fist around the small garment.

Another caw sounded then, and Loki raised his head to see Muninn hurtling towards them, and what looked like a note clenched in his talons. Loki's brow furrowed in confusion as the raven dropped the message into his other outstretched hand, and he quickly recognized Darcy's hand, having written "WIFI IS OUT?" in large block letters.

His ragged sigh was audible across the grounds.

* * *

Juggling a raven on each shoulder, Loki magically wiped the shred of paper, magicking the letters "Child Search priority. See you soon" on it. Muninn snatched it up with another caw, launching off. Loki watched his progress with some concern; something had to have interfered with the "router" of sorts he'd concocted for Darcy and her technical gadgets, and interfered quite strongly.

A flash of magic later and he was back in his quarters, wincing at the scent of the locator spell's combined ingredients. If all went as planned, the concoction would burn off a small red cloud, which would drift in the direction of the intended target.

But it didn't do that. The spell burned successfully with a snap of Loki's fingers, but the resultant occurrence was…A sort of sigh, and a small puff of white-ish smoke. That was all, and it quickly dissipated into the still air. It was not meant to do that…

"Gods," Loki hissed, an uncomfortable chill spreading through his veins. That indicated the target was…nowhere. Not in existence, if the tome whose pages he now tore through was to be believed. Swiping a hand through his black locks, Loki's eyes rose to blankly appraise the opposite wall. It just didn't make sense. Maybe he ought to try another spell? But there wasn't time –

A knocking on his quarters' doors had him whipping around, curtly calling for the knocker to enter. Kvasir entered, pale and shaky even for him. "What is it?" Loki asked, eyes narrowing.

"Sire, we- we checked the, ah, installment you made to accommodate Lady Darcy and the other Midgardians' little gadgets – it's wrecked, Sire. The enchanted wires – shredded, the core orb smashed completely."

"That's impossible," Loki said dismissively, moving to turn back to his books. But it wasn't, not if something large had the mind to do such a thing…

"I am not mistaken, Sire – it has been vandalized, and the Midgardians are demanding Lady Darcy bring back the Fi-wi."

"Fenris?" Loki uttered the two syllables as a question, and Kvasir frowned, stepped further into the room. "I think not, Milord; the wolf has not been seen, nor would he have any excuse to behave like a rampaging beast in such a…targeted manner…Nor does he have access to the North Tower, without anyone seeing him."

His assistant was right, but nothing was making sense to Loki at the moment. "Kvasir, lead me to the council's meeting room."

* * *

Kvasir, in the lead, skidded to a halt just as the double doors slammed open, yells and people streaming out and pooling aimlessly in the hallway. The green robes of a Vanite messenger caught Loki's eye, and he caught the young brunette female by the arm. "What is happening?"

"One of the Vanir elite who is here today – his son is missing," the messenger hissed, pulling her elbow from Loki's grip. "He has disappeared from one of the groups touring the grounds today, while the meetings took place."

Loki's numb fingers fell to his side, and he froze, something prickling at the edge of his consciousness. Everything in the hall stilled, and he turned slowly, scanning the hectic corridor. There it was – another flash of…it had to be magic. Something old, smelling slightly moldy like the pages of an ancient book. But nothing in the hallway appeared out of place – everyone was far too busy wondering what was going on, and then Volstagg appeared, bellowing.

"Loki! The Midgardian state Secretary – whatever he is called – he is arrived, and the rest of the Vanaheim envoy."

"Please tell me there are no children with them," Loki replied absently, pacing towards the large Asgardian and glancing from floor to ceiling of the corridor.

"He has his entire family with him, and the Vanites have a few young…" Before Loki could reply, an outraged yell sounded from the end of the hall, a mortal woman shoving through the crowd, hair askew, pen and recorder forgotten in her hand.

"You!" She screeched at someone, and the crowd parted to reveal Darcy, rubbing the shoulder of a Vanite woman she'd been talking to.

"Volstagg, alert Heimdall. No one else enters, even if they were scheduled for the talks," Loki whispered furtively to the larger man, and an instant later was teleported to Darcy's side, just as the mortal woman lunged with a scream. He caught the woman by her wrists, gritting his teeth with the effort of not harming her.

"My boy is missing! Where is he?! They just told me – all night, and now -!"

"Ms. Fairfield, calm yourself-" Loki managed, and the woman writhed in his grip like an angry cat. "it's all her fault – where is the security here?!" The mortal journalist continued, staring daggers at Darcy as she still tried to get to her.

"Ms. Fairfield – we – we were alerted to a possible missing boy, but- the situation was being handled-" Darcy stumbled over her words, eyes filling with horror as she met Loki's. "He's still not been found?" As Loki grimaced in response, Darcy was already turning pale. With a quick jerk of his head, Loki and the woman were gone, hopefully to Eir or the healer's wing for a sedative.

"Oh god, another? Are there – are there like Asgardian child predators?" Darcy was hissing in a sidelong whisper to Kvasir, who'd made it to her side, even as she backed away from the crowd. "Never mind," she amended, cutting him off. Raising her arms, one of whose hands was still clutching her iPad, Darcy waved them frantically to silence the hall. "Everyone, please! Quiet!"

When the confused and panicked crowd grew quieter – it helped that no more reporters were screaming and trying to attack her – Darcy spoke. "It has come to my attention that there are…members of our party who are…unaccounted for. In light of this, I am issuing a temporary curfew and lockdown, just as a precaution…" Voices rose in the hallway again at the term "lockdown" – "You are to return to your rooms, staying in groups – at least pairs – and await further instruction. When I know what is happening, you will know. Please, just calm yourselves and be patient. I'm sure the confusion of a new place just has some a little misguided." With a flick of her wrist, Darcy had Kvasir and a few of his staff marshalling the milling crowd like sheep, herding them down separate halls and back to their rooms.

The ambassador collapsed back against the wall with a gasping sigh, and Jane finally wound her way through the crowd to Darcy's side. "Thor left to speak to Heimdall," Jane whispered, the corridor quieting as people left.

"What the hell is going on? I thought we had this all planned out. Who brings their kids to an alien realm anyway?!" Darcy's tone was angry, and Jane caught the glint of a fallen tear. "I'm going to take the fall for this," she said through a voice clogged with tears. "Even if they just wandered off and it was a misunderstanding – this is my fault, I should have better organized a galavant around a strange place for so many people – and reporters are so curious and everyone's just roaming free and I didn't _think_-"

"Shh, Darce, it's okay," Jane soothed, pulling in her former intern for a tight hug. "You're not the ruler of Asgard, you're not the one who was babysitting those kids – you have a lot on your plate, and they've got to understand that. I'm sure the kids will be found soon, and there'll be nothing to worry about."

As Jane spoke, she caught Thor's eyes, the burly king heading down the hall in their direction. He didn't look happy, and as Jane pulled back, Darcy sniffled, turning and spotting him. "What's happening?"

* * *

So, the timetable had moved up. What was wrong with bingeing from the start? The beast wondered, eyeing the now-three wriggling bundles lying prostrate on the cold stone. The trickster would be wondering why his tracking spells wouldn't work, and the mortals why their little lighted books could not be used to communicate – the perfect panicked soundtrack to a delicious meal. Earth magick and brute strength were both concepts Loki, God of Mischief could never hope to understand, and he would not know the children's presences were merely masked until it was too late, and they were toothpicks made of bone for Krampus.

A pleased growl escaped the curling lips, the eyes glinting despite the near-darkness of the catacombs. More of the ignorant had arrived, too, and with children, if the fat viking was to be believed – he would pluck them like chickens from an unguarded pen. Clawed fingers stretched and tapped along the stone walls of his lair as he contemplated his next move. Maybe he ought to make an exception – garnish his meal with an adult or two.

Voices shook him from his reverie, and he was gladdened the children's mewls and auras were muted by his magick. Shrill tones sounded from above, seeping through the grate that led to the corridors above. "That's three kids missing in one day. Something's wrong. Find me Freja, now, and gather the Valkyries. God… Oh my god. What are we going to do?" The voices faded away, and the beast steepled his fingers, eyes crinkling in satisfaction.

They would believe, now.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hi guys. This is long, long overdue, and I'm ashamed to say all urge to write had fled. In my defense, I had my school program to finish up, and a lot going on, on top of the motivation kill. **_

_**Randomly enough, I owe this update to the Jurassic World fandom, which boasts of several amazing writers, and convinced me to get back to the keyboard. That, and a reviewer who left me a lovely comment on AO3 the other day that just stuck with me. Thank you so, so much. Feedback is indeed a double-edged blade at times. **_

_**Took a bit to get back into the swing of the story, and I have some more homework to do, but hopefully I can continue. For now, a tidbit to get us all back into it. **_

* * *

He had perhaps been a bit too eager, claiming so many in such a short time, but he couldn't resist. Centuries of dwindling prestige and belief had Krampus climbing the walls for the taste of his usual prey. Orphans in war-torn Midgardian countries, the odd suburban runaway, none of them compared to his preferred meals.

Side-eyeing the burlap sacks that served as cells for the already-captured, Krampus' muzzle twitched in annoyance for a moment as regret made an appearance. But no matter, he would find a way to preserve them for later meals, like hunters of old had done. The many unused branches of Yggdrasil would house him after his escape; none knew them like he did.

Now that he had mangled the device that allowed the humans of Asgard to most easily communicate, it was only a matter of time before a chaos that could not be managed would break out. Their children missing, no way to receive new information, a strange place – like fruit for the picking, many would be.

Just as he began to relish the thought of trying to catch a human female, for a bit of a fun, and also to test his aged instincts, a loud bang sounded overhead, from one of the main hallways of the palace.

* * *

"Thor, everyone likes you. Who could dislike a walking golden retriever, I mean, c'mon. You're literally a walking chunk of diplomacy. If you can tell the Muspels to _please _put out the flame-walls in that corridor…I mean, it'd be the respectful thing to do, seeing as they're guests again…"

"Surtur made it quite clear that while he is unwilling to challenge Heimdall's guardianship of the Bifrost, he is equally unwilling to "wittle his plums" or some nonsense, while Muspel children are absconded with."

Darcy blinked, still trying to translate "wittle his plums" – "I think he meant twiddle his thumbs", Jane whispered furtively – and scraped her hair back with both hands, emitting a ragged sigh.

"As if I didn't have enough to deal with, these elemental dimwits are blockading their own guest rooms. What's next, channeling _Les Mis _and piling up chairs in the hall?"

"The halls of Asgard can take quite a beating, Darcy, as you know. We simply need to focus on finding the culprit behind these occurrences..." Thor's soothing baritone was not as remedial as she'd like, but she tried to block out the shenanigans going on across the palace.

"I'm honestly dumbfounded. Who here has anything to lose? We are all here to cooperate, I just…"

"Who could gain from a gathering of realms?" Thor even chimed in, casually swinging Mjölnir as he thought. "It leaves some slightly less-guarded…"

"Who could gain from stealing children at random, from varying realms?" Jane contributed, the trio now pacing in uneven tandem.

"When you put it that way, it definitely sounds like an intergalactic pedophile, I'm just going to say it," Darcy declared flatly. "And I definitely can't have something like that running around while the Secretary of State is here with his daughters."

A caw had Darcy turning towards the nearest window frame, just as a ruffled Huginn landed on the chiseled stonework. A small scroll in his talons told Darcy that Loki was walking the grounds, examining the damage done to the "ghetto-rigged" – her words, not his – internet router creation-thingey that he had cobbled together for her. It was comprised of several unusual enchantments, he had told her before, but his magic was the most powerful of anyone in proximity, and it at least wouldn't be interfered with. Until now, which was suspect in itself. She crumpled the brief note, staring blankly at a slightly-miffed Huginn, who disliked being used as a carrier pigeon. "So he hasn't got any ideas? Old enemies wanting to…Oh, I shouldn't even ask something like that. Let him know I'm going to check on the higher-ups from every realm, and I'll find him later, okay?" Huginn cawed in assent, fluttering off, and Darcy turned to Jane and Thor.

"I'm so fired," she said glumly. "Why don't you two find Volstagg and Fandral, they've been patrolling…I'm gonna check on the bigwigs." Darcy jerked her head back in the direction of the main accommodation wings, looking none too happy about her self-given mission. With a clap to her shoulder, Thor agreed, escorting Jane in the opposite direction down the corridor.

That left Darcy, standing alone in a deserted corridor, wondering why she hadn't chosen a major in archaeology after all.

* * *

It would be incredibly interesting, the creature was thinking, claws skittering along the walls he followed in pursuit of the human woman, whose hard strides made her boots clop loudly along the hallway. It would be interesting to see her eyes widen in fear, in realization of her imminent demise, inches from his jaws and death, before his fangs closed on her throat…

The little mortal acted so sure of herself, so in-charge of a realm that had existed for millennia before she had, and would continue for many after she was dead. Yet he, a creature from the soil, rock and air of a long-forgotten realm, had to creep about as an inconvenient legend, a forgotten myth? She could marshal the forces of the golden realm with a few words, and he had to scrape his living from the edges of society? No, no he could not stand for this. The lady of Asgard, as he was calling her in his head, would be taken, too, just before he left.

The trickster would know he still lived, soon. And he would not win this time.

* * *

"You have _got _to remember, Mister Secretary, that I am a guest here as well. A somewhat-permanent guest, but a guest nonetheless, and I hold no real sway unless Asgardians allow me to. On paper, I am a mouthpiece for you within this realm, and that is it. I am doing what I can to minimize variables right now, locking down the place as best I can, and we will figure out what is going on. They have somewhat more advanced resources here, and I need you to calm down." As Darcy finished her rant, she pondered if it was perhaps _her _who needed to calm down, in fact, and her gasps for air seemed to underline that point. Pretending to be a sophisticated adult in the midst of a political crisis gave her a _strong _need for a cappuccino. Or whiskey.

The Secretary of State of the United States of America, David Jefferson, blinked for a few moments in stunned surprise, and then nodded, shocking her anew. "Miss Lewis, I really can't do more than concede to your better knowledge of this realm and its ways. I just hope you understand that this is a crisis and a half, and the media will multiply it to twice that the moment we are back in the U.S."

Gathering her courage around her again like a coat, Darcy nodded, forcing her chin back up. "Believe me, Sir, I understand. I will personally be out and about with the Asgardians, coordinating searches. Please just remain here with your family as requested, and meals, everything will be taken care of and brought right to your chambers." With a curt nod, she strode from the room, managing a quick smile and wink for one of the secretary's daughters, whom she knew from several political functions back in the states. Celia was her name, and her brunette pigtails bobbed as she waved in farewell to Darcy. She had a fondness for salmon hors d'oeuvres, Darcy recalled.

"Bye Darce!" The tiny voice sounded behind her as Darcy closed the chamber door, nodding to the Asgardian manning the entrance.

Rounding the corner, she squawked in alarm as she ran full-tilt into a tall figure clothed in familiar black and green leather. A hand pressed to her chest, Darcy sighed. "Have you made any headway?" she asked quietly, falling into step with Loki as he turned and accompanied her the direction she'd been going.

Loki voiced his ideas aloud, his tone distinctly pessimistic. "I had thought Fenris, but the wolf has not been seen…"

"We've got destroyed communications, missing children, and a helluva lot of pissed-off important people," Darcy murmured, ticking off items on her fingers as they walked. "What does that add up to? Someone with a grudge? Multi-realm anarchists?"

"If it is the former, they had better get in line," Loki muttered grimly.

"If your first thought was Fenris…" Darcy trailed off, unsure how to formulate the thought.

"Often, magical creatures wield much more powerful magic than a trained enchanter. There is something in the elemental base of their nature, or so I was told once," Loki confided, as they rounded a corner near his quarters.

"How about some bookwork?" Darcy suggested. "Please tell me you have a copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._"

Loki raised a brow, but before she could explain, he smiled. "I have something of that sort. Probably several dozen books on magical creatures, but we can certainly try."

"Hermione figured out the Basilisk in the library, so why can't we?" Darcy offered hopefully as the doors swung shut behind them.

* * *

**_Thanks, as always, for reading. ~Bon_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hi everyone! I really am disappointed with the dragging-of-feet this story has become, but the mind can't operate on command all the time, and I've had quite a fill of real-life struggles to deal with lately. That being said, Krampus the movie is coming out this winter, and I happened to see a trailer the other day. YAY, is all I can say, and it helped me to get this bit out. _**

**_Enjoy! _**

* * *

_It was a small, nameless village, from a time before places even needed names, nestled near the foot of the Scandinavian Mountains. He knew his chances of being stopped were slim; the people here lived as every man for himself, seldom summoning the capability for solidarity. _

_Centuries before any sort of modern contraptions had been invented that could deter him, Krampus had approached, unnoticed, unexpected. Oh, the usual weak Pagan protections had been placed, herbal wreaths and symbols hastily carved upon fragile wooden doors, but it was nothing to him, the great darkness of Yule. _

_This would be his third village this week, and he was mildly dismayed to find himself slowed by the bloating results of mortal children. The need for subterfuge was lessened greatly by the abundance of snow on the ground, the fluffy sort, not the hardened, re-frozen sort that gave away footsteps with loud crunching noises. Just how he liked it._

_The village was illuminated solely by a lone torch, nestled in a protective cage from the wind, and hooked to the side of a large building facing southward. He decided to start there._

_The first building was a bust – merely a warehouse for the meager stores and trappings that the village had been able to hoard before winter's icy grip clamped around them, and none of it of any use to him. He rifled through sacks of roots and dried herbs for a moment before clacking his claws together in a show of annoyance, slipping out the entrance again._

_Pausing, he scented the air with a muzzle neither wolfish nor goat-like completely in appearance, but somewhere between the two. Children, a few houses to the right. Their scent was always a distinctive blend of sour milk and dirt, and he trailed it, yellow eyes glinting in the dim northern night as he sought the right house. He paused before the door, etched like the others with protective runes and what to his eyes was an overabundance of herbs – enough lavender and sage to make his eyes water and nose wiggle in discomfort. _

_Mild annoyances, he reminded himself – it's not as if mortals would ever know that he truly could be weakened by such herbs, but only in concentrated doses, and it's not as if one would get the chance to administer such a weapon. _

_Claws raising to swipe at the door and knock it inward, Krampus froze for a moment, ears catching a sound that lent him enough pause for the door to instead burst open upon him._

_Blasted backward and thoroughly baffled at the offensive motion, Krampus battered the chunk of wood aside, snuffling at the strong scent of the wreath's lavender, strewn across him now. It made him slightly nauseous, but he wouldn't let his opponent see that, and he scrambled back across the snowy ground, giving himself space to rise and face them. They seemed to have known about herbs' weakening effect, or were extremely lucky. _

"_You disgusting creature. Have you not had your fill of innocent Midgardians?!" A strong voice called, and Krampus fought the urge to roll his watering eyes. The son of Odin, he thought this one was called, eyeing the red cape and metal scaled-armor that strode towards him. A shadow closely followed, a shadow clad in gold and green and enough darkness to blend them in with the night. Likely the frost giant brother of the Asgardian dog; he'd heard of the duo, supposedly dispatching cosmic justice with missions here and there across the nine realms. The presence of the trickster explain the luck with the herbs – he was rumored to be bookish, rather un-warrior-like, but effective with knowledge where he was not with physical strength. Explained the faux-child scent, at least. _

"_My Mother sees everything, beast. Did you think we no longer presided over those who worship our father best? That we would not see you snatch and devour their young as a wolf among sheep?" the one they called Thor boomed across the snow, the night suddenly still with tension. Krampus snarled, head shaking with an effort to rid himself of the lavender still assaulting his nostrils, and unfurled his claws with a snick._

"_These are my prey – would you fault the Frost Beast for feeding upon spare Jötun, or the horse Sleipnir for grazing upon grass, Golden one? This is not your fight." _

"_Jötuns may hold their own against such a beast, but we know mortals are not so lucky against the dark being they call Krampus, if their tongues are brave enough to name you at all. You will cease the theft and slaughter of Midgardian infants, and forfeit these hunting grounds, or you will fall." The Odinson was quite sure of himself, Krampus thought, eyeing the dark being who'd moved to stand at his side, but a pace back. That position alone denoted him as a lackey, the sidekick, the petty illusionist who played at visual tricks instead of fighting like the golden god beside him. _

"_I will not," Krampus ground out, eyes flitting to the side at a sound, seconds before a dagger was slicing into a defensively-raised forearm. The blade sheared through shaggy fur, dealing a substantial blow before Krampus could fling the assailant aside, nursing the now-bleeding arm with the other against his torso. Yellows eyes evaluated the still-motionless form at Thor's side, dimly noting a vacant expression and a faint green flicker._

_Ah. The brother had been studying up on his tricks. And indeed, an ornate dagger now lay bloodied in the snow between Krampus and Loki, knelt upon one knee, a hand reaching for another blade. _

_The three were in a triangular formation now, and Thor shot a nod of approval at his brother, who gave a half-smirk before both straightened, racing at Krampus as one. _

_The congregation of flecks of light above them illuminated the scene, and Krampus knew that Thor's blow could be a killing one, if it landed. The fool couldn't see that his own element gave himself away in the night. The infamous hammer raised, and still Krampus held his ground; Thor was obvious as a third arm on a mortal, but the trickster was the one to watch. Not watch, for his deception was most effective upon the eyes, the creature recalled with a wince of pain, but the one to hear. _

_Loki appeared to be charging with a dagger gripped in his right hand, but Krampus noted there was no pound of his boots on the ground, and suspected a blow coming from behind again. Still a coward, then, even if one on the offensive. Abruptly crouching on hind legs that were spring-coiled like a wolf's haunches, Krampus listened to the whistle of air above his head where a dagger now swiped at the spot his head had been. _

_Good arm now braced against the ground with but a second to spare, he waited until Thor and the illusion were upon him, as the real Loki withdrew his blow for another attempt. At the last second and with a guttural growl, Krampus was launched aside with a leap, murky blood lancing through the air and spattering the pristine snowy landscape._

_The two Asgardian fools collided with a crackle of thunder and a ring not unlike that of a sword being drawn. That must have been part of the illusionist's magic, as his magical doppelganger vanished and the real trickster narrowly rolled away from impact with the hammer's blow. _

_Gleaming yellow eyes shot back to the larger building he'd first infiltrated, iluminated faintly by that same torch still, and an idea took root in the dark deity's mind. Loki of Asgard was not the only one who could think. _

_They both straightened, Thor blinking comically. "Where has the beast gone?" _

"_Clearly not to Helheim as you intended," Loki uttered with a grimace, retrieving his fallen blade as his emerald gaze narrowed, scouring the surrounding area. _

_A rustling noise had them both tensing, eyes now upon the furred creature who had appeared, crouched two dozen paces away._

_Krampus rose to his full height, taking a few more paces back for good measure. He knew the mountains behind him, knew where a pass was located that would be difficult to track him across. If he could get the element of speed on his side, even with a wounded arm, he could escape. And if the strengthening smell of smoke was any indicator…_

_He managed a taunt, even weakened as he was, just before a faint crackling filled the air: "Pay attention to your mortals, then, Thunder God; I do believe their nourishment for the next season has just gone up in flames."_

_Thor shot to attention, starting to race back to the now-ignited store room, but Loki latched onto his arm as he moved past. "Thor, no – this creature – " Thor roared with indecision, but when both looked back, Krampus was gone, only a viscous trail of black remaining. _

"_We save their stores," Thor said firmly, already raising the hammer to concentrate on summoning a rain storm. Loki gave a last glance at the hill the creature had disappeared over, before raking a hand through his black locks, conjuring a water spell with his other._

* * *

Krampus jerked awake with a choked noise, phantom pain coursing through the arm that had been injured in his prior confrontation with that bloody trickster. There was still a scar, the arm still devoid of fur in a shape identical to the original slice. He suspected the daggers were steeped in poison, the wound having taken so long to heal, and for a while he had feared the loss of the entire arm. But Krampus had rallied, human flesh and rest serving as enough for his recuperation, and now he was back to wrest his revenge from Asgard's stock.

Shaking the shaggy fur from his eyes, he shuffled past the bundles of his captives, sleeping disquietly on the wet, cold floor of the filtration shaft they were in. Moving to another of the grids he had been using as a vantage point, Krampus warily eyed the copious Christmas decorations lining the hall above them. The girl had insisted upon _so many _decorations. He was glad that most of them were Midgardian modern versions, though, and as such composed of plastic and foam. Not many real herbs lingered to pose a threat to his power; the closest were boughs of pine and poinsettia flowers. Nothing at all, which he'd proven when obtaining the children, and his power was now near a crest, Yule's season being _his time_.

No, the meager challenge would be in the prey itself, he thought, now that his sights were set.

* * *

Darcy huffed as she slammed another old tome shut, dust rising from the impact and making her sneeze. "There are thousands of pages in these, am I supposed to thumb through and hope I get lucky?"

"This was your idea, Darce…" Loki's dry tone echoed across to her, he himself absorbed in an even-dustier tome at his position leaning against the mantle.

Ensconced in a deep wingback armchair, Darcy flung the book aside, biting her lip as she tried to pinpoint a likely suspect from the hefty pile in front of her. "Can't you perform a luck spell for us, or something?" She whined, selecting a royal blue tome that looked marginally less ancient than the others, and therefore less dusty, she calculated.

"Summoning luck for oneself is a certain method of obtaining _bad _luck," was Loki's distant reply, as he turned a few more pages, looking crestfallen himself.

Darcy harrumphed to herself, eyeing the table of contents in her book, in a stroke of genius, she thought. "Elemental beings… Day and night creatures …. Seasonal Entities – like the Easter bunny? … Emotionally-summoned monsters, what is this crap…" Letting out a frustrated, ragged groan, she flung this book on the ground too, where it fell pages-up on a random spot. The man across the room raised a brow.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted.

"You have foiled assassination and coup attempts, survived nearly bleeding out, and been possessed by a spirit. You'll think of something. _We _will," Loki assured, tossing his book aside in his own resignation and moving to sit on a chaise lounge near Darcy's chair. Leaning forward, elbows on knees, he took her hands, rubbing comforting circles on the backs of her hands.

She smiled halfheartedly, feeling guilty for enjoying his attentions when children were being stolen from their beds on her watch. Then her eyes caught sight of her phone, abandoned on a side table in his quarters. "Still no magical reception?"

"I cannot figure out what happened," Loki admitted with a frown. "I can enchant something, such as a pair of mirrors, for small-scale communication between a pair such as us, but…"

"That'd be useful," Darcy replied, looking around the room again, suddenly re-inspired. She could solve one small problem. "What could we use…Something covert, I think. Something we wouldn't be without unless it was bad?" Her eyes lit upon the gleaming bracer on Loki's arm, her gaze shooting down to look at the pendant resting on her chest, an old gift from Jane. "Different items, can they work?" She asked, resting her fingers on his bracer and raising the pendant to his view.

"I believe so," he said slowly. "I'll have to work at it."

An hour and a half later, Darcy was through four more tomes and currently digging into a copy of _Wuthering Heights_, having temporarily given up on magical beast lore. She had no idea where the novel had come from, but couldn't stop giggling randomly at the thought of Loki reading period romances in between battles.

"There," came his self-satisfied voice from behind a pile of books, and Darcy's necklace was tossed over the stack and towards her. She caught it one-handed, just as he made his way over, re-tightening the bracer on his forearm.

"Breathe on it to activate seeing and alerting the other side - it'll tremble slightly - and rub in a circle around the edges to hear," he explained, imitating the gestures with his own newly-bewitched possession. "It may not always be helpful to be able to be heard, so…" He shrugged, blushing slightly in embarrassment at what he likely considered overkill, but Darcy squealed, eyes wide in amazement. "It's like a mute function or something. Such a good idea, Loke." She threw her arms around his neck, pressing affectionate lips against his jawline, and closed her eyes as his arms came around her.

A second later, his arms tightened with a different tension, and he froze against her. "Darcy…What you said about luck?" Pulling back with her arms still linked around him, she cocked her head to the side questioningly. Loki raised his brows and nodded towards something on the ground behind her.

Suspicious, she slowly turned, brows furrowing at the open book laying on the floor.

"Eeew," she exclaimed, kneeling and tugging the book closer to examine the illustration on the page it had apparently fallen open to. "This looks like a badger mated with, like, an elf from Santa's workshop. An evil one."

Loki's eyes flickered across the room, wondering if Darcy wasn't in fact still a recipient of ghostly aid, before he moved to crouch beside her. "I know this creature," he breathed. "We have…erm…history. I'm afraid it may indeed hold a grudge, and this season is the height of its power."

"Thought this was some German folktale," Darcy grumbled, flicking back a page to read a description of the entity in question.

"I think you can safely admit that much of Midgardian lore is steeped in some fact," Loki replied tightly, hand clenching like he wanted one of his daggers in it. "If it is indeed Krampus…He could be anywhere in Asgard. This…creature, is elusive and cunning."

Darcy, having gleaned her fill of information from the book, snapped it shut and rose, offering Loki a hand up. "Good thing I've got the _god _of those qualities on my side."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone. Before we get started, I'm going to add a link on my tumblr, showing the depiction of Krampus I've loosely based my own creature on. FFN seems to have no easy way to link such a thing, so I'll tag it under Tasertricks. We're coming to the end here, and I thought seven chapters would be so fittingly magical, but I'm not certain it will quite fit into seven. We shall see. I'm really trying to participate in Nanowrimo this year, and I'm also starting a new job, so this should be finished soon! Enjoy!**

* * *

"Operation Pedo is a go," Darcy huffed to herself under her breath, tightening the strings at the neckline of the heavily-furred cloak she was sporting for the field trip into the catacombs of Asgard. She was in her room, putting the finishing touches on her outfit and gathering supplies into a small messenger bag.

Turning her head to her shoulder, she leaned in and sniffed, nose wrinkling at the slightly-musty scent of the cloak she'd rustled up from somewhere in her wardrobe. On a whim, she reached for a bottle of herbal-based perfume Eir had distilled herself for her; the lavender in it was incredibly soothing, and she spritzed a generous amount onto the shoulders and fur ruff of the cloak before tucking the bottle into her bag. Never hurt to have something flammable in some pitch-black tunnels, and stress relief was a plus.

Freja and her armored Valkryies were patrolling the halls thoroughly, although Darcy and Loki had come to the conclusion that no such obvious thoroughfare was being used. No, a faint magical trace had led Loki to a small ventilation grate near floor-level in a corner of the main feasting hall, and a small clump of some unidentifiable hair had confirmed the presence of _something_. Idunn was also helping in any way she could, gathering any families with children into one of the larger halls and casting protection spells left and right. The place fairly reeked of light magic now, but it would be worth it, Darcy hoped. The Muspels and Jötuns flatly refused to leave the wards they were housed in, using their own elemental spells for protection, and Darcy had told the Valkyries to just let them be. The last thing she needed were scuffles in the hallway as they tried to drag their "allies" out into the open for Krampus, or whatever was creeping around beneath the castle.

The tentative plan was to descend into the catacombs beneath the palace themselves; they were unused except for some storage rooms beneath the kitchens, and any passages Loki may have wandered to practice magic. Darcy had needed to harness his silver tongue earlier that evening, asking the Secretary's permission to use his daughter Celia as bait. But the child knew and trusted Darcy, and had added to her argument by chiming in "But Daaaad, I _wanna _help Darcy!" After the girl had threatened to climb out a window, the American politician agreed, rubbing his hands across his temples. "If anything goes wrong…" he had begun, and Darcy had quickly jumped in, assuring him of Loki's magical prowess, and now that they knew what they were dealing with…

"Warm enough?" Darcy now asked the nine year-old behind her, bouncing on the bed. She'd given her the Asgardian equivalent of a thick parka, some sort of leather coat with fur-edged lapels, and the girl now nodded from within its depths, her hair jumping at the movement. Wearing it long would keep her warm and also make her scent more prominent, Loki had said, and as creepy as it sounded, the bait for this trap had to be effective.

A rap on the door saw Jane entering a moment later, clad in her own cloak nearly identical to Darcy's. "Did Freyr _really _need to go to all this trouble? It's like Antarctica out there," Jane mumbled through chattering teeth, her mahogany hair also left long like the other two girls'.

"Go big or go home," replied Darcy, then winced at her wording. "I bet a lot of them want to do just that right now, actually."

"I never thought I'd miss New Mexico heat," added Jane thoughtfully, moving forward to adjust the fastenings on little Celia's coat. "But I can't say I want to go home," she added mischievously, winking over her shoulder at Darcy.

"Are you kidding me? And miss all the fun? Who needs Starbucks and Netflix when you've got killer badgers who walk on two legs and wolves the size of houses?"

Jane grinned, her eyes roaming the room until they lit upon the necklace Loki had enchanted for Darcy. "I'd _love _to know how he's managed reception-less communication on these," the scientist muttered, turning the necklace in her hands like she was trying not to take it apart and figure out how it worked.

"Don't even think about it! I already showed you how it works, and you better give it back when you're done with it!" Darcy called, before another knock at her door sounded, signalling Loki was ready.

* * *

It certainly was tedious feeding prisoners, Krampus thought with a growl, tossing the last of some bread crust at the third bundle of Child. And the _waste _they made.

The third catch had been a Muspel, leading to Surtur's rampage and literal firewalls upstairs; it was almost more trouble than it was worth, however, as the child had to be kept incredibly damp to stifle its natural flaming state. Krampus was running out of material to contain it with. The situation was laughable, but at least there was a self-cooked meal in it for the folkloric predator. If he could deal with the new complications.

He knew he'd been discovered; knew he'd been hasty enough to leave a trail near one of the grids he came and went from. Confidence had led to mistakes, but if he came, terrorized and left, where would be the fun in that? Krampus was itching for round two with the trickster, and it seemed it would soon come.

An echoing clang from somewhere deep in the bowels of the castle disrupted his reverie, and he tore his eyes from the sniveling human prisoner to squint down the nearest tunnel opening. Time to lay his own trap.

* * *

Darcy took a deep breath, waving the stone she used as a master key in front of the lock securing a remote kitchen storeroom. The door opened without resistance, and she led Jane and Celia in. They had to walk down some dark, dingy steps to the main room, where a sinister-looking grate waited as their entrance to the catacombs. Thudding footsteps a moment later announced the arrival of Thor and Loki, the pair smashing their shoulders together in an attempt by each to enter before the other.

"I think the girl-child should accompany myself and Jane," Thor immediately stated, moving to stand beside his scientist love. Loki was shaking his head before Thor had finished. "Of the two of us, who actually _understands _magic?"

"I summon thunder with but a thought," Thor shot back with a scowl.

"A simple feat of elementary manipulation, yes, but what _else _do you do?" Loki asked with a dramatic eye-roll.

"This feels familiar," Jane intoned with a huff, flashing back to spur-of-the-moment scenic trips through Asgard with Einherjar guards on their tail, and the same duo arguing at the controls of a Svartir ship.

Sensing where this was going, Darcy stepped between the two with hands raised like a referee. "Okayyyy, enough manhood-measuring for me for today. Thor, Celia knows me, and you have to admit that Loke knows his stuff with the sorcery and all, right?"

"All right, but I do not like this plan," the hammer-wielding god conceded, eyes flickering uneasily towards the grate. Darcy could understand his uncharacteristic tension; he was a being of the sun, sky, and open air; this had to be claustrophobia to a whole new level for him.

"Noted for the record," Darcy assured him. "Asgard's history books - scrolls? - will note that you were outvoted. Shall we go?"

Loki summoned two torches, tossing one sulkily at Thor, who caught it easily. "We'll go first," said Jane, grabbing Thor's arm with a conciliatory glance at Darcy. Sibling rivalries, the Midgardian ambassador communicated back with an eye-roll and head shake. One last blue-eyed glare from Thor, and the pair were edging into the four foot-high gap left when he tore the metal grate from its housing. It was quite a squeeze for him, and Celia giggled when he stepped on his cape, stumbling into the entrance. A few inaudible curses later and the two were out of sight, taking the right-side fork in the tunnel.

Loki slipped an arm around Darcy, and the two spent a quiet moment with foreheads pressed together. "I hope we are going about this correctly," Loki admitted. "I never was much for tactical plans."

"Oh please, you had this whole place convinced you were Odin for months. You are crafty and convincing, whatever the plan is." Darcy pressed a kiss to his cheek, then grabbed Celia's hand, squeezing it firmly. "Alright kiddo, speaking of it, you know the plan?"

"Scream if anything weird appears," the girl replied obligingly, hunching her shoulders in a moment of concentration.

"And if it does, stick close to Loki, not me," Darcy added. "I mean it," she insisted at a sharp glance from both the girl and the trickster. "He can protect you better. No arguments from either of you." Darcy had spent several minutes drilling it into Loki's head that he was to protect the child first, not her, no matter his instincts. This wasn't just Darcy's reputation with Secretary Jefferson, and her job on the line, this was the girl's life, nothing to be gambled with any further than they already were. A whiff of the girl was supposed to lure the monster out, Loki and Thor would take care of it, and everyone would go home for hot cocoa, or a gallon of mead, in Darcy's case. Probably a predictable plan, but they had nothing else, and the monster's hunger for children was unrivaled by any of its other instincts in all the books they'd found it in.

* * *

They were caught now; she was visible, the slight figure shadowed by a bulkier one glinting with Asgardian armor. A heavy cloak muffled her steps, but he could smell the sweetness of her flesh, see the long locks of her hair swaying in the faint torchlight.

He'd snaked his way through tunnel after tunnel, taking all of the turns he'd immediately memorized upon entering Asgard, looking for any hint of light and noise. And he had finally found his prey, in an upper level that was uncomfortably close to the castle proper, but it would do. If the Asgardian tried anything, it would likely backfire and blast him through a wall instead, and Krampus would be gone like a shadow.

Debating for a moment on whether to distract with a noise down one tunnel, and a rapid assault from the opposite end, or to attack straight-on with the element of surprise, the creature rubbed a claw along its scarred arm, gauging their position. The mark from its last confrontation with Asgard was aching with renewed strength, an unwilling grimace of pain twisting its already-fiendish features.

Decision made, Krampus inched forward, leaping at the last minute with a downward slash of claws prepared for a rewarding female scream.

* * *

Darcy wasn't sure who'd made the wrong turn; she was certain Loki would blame it on a dim-witted Thor, while she was perfectly willing to blame herself, because who knew how to _properly _navigate the basement tunnels of a fantasy realm, really?

All the ambassador knew was that she rounded a corner, Celia in tow, and suddenly Jane and Thor were in sight. Darcy broke the silence with a ragged sigh. "Are we going in circles?"

"Maybe it all just connects at a central location," Jane suggested.

Further conjecture was interrupted by Thor, who bellowed "_Behind you!" _and pushed Jane behind himas he started to whirl Mjölnir in the tight quarters. Darcy felt a slight breeze, then Celia's hand was wrenched from hers as the girl screamed, a weight pushing Darcy down to the mildew stone floor.

A sizzling noise immediately filled the air, alongside a horrendous shriek, somewhere between the raspy tones of a bullfrog and the screech of an owl. She could smell something burning.

"_Darcy!_" she heard Loki yell, and the weight on her back shifted enough that she could roll to the side, fumbling with the heavy cloak that restricted her movement. Dizzied from the impact and sudden noise in the tunnel, she blinked for a moment, eyes blearily noting that Celia was safe, nestled behind Loki against the opposite wall, and the _something _they'd been tracking was writhing on the stone floor right in front of her.

Gray hair – fur?, glinting claws, and speed was all she noted. And smoke – it looked like the creature was explaining one of those posters from elementary school that said to stop, drop and roll if ever one caught fire; there was some sort of sizzling still going on, and the creature wouldn't stop those agonizing noises.

Loki was the first one to put two and two together, or at least, he thought so. "Darcy, keep the cloak on, whatever you do," he warned lowly in a gap between foreign screeches. The herbal scent about Darcy had jogged a distant memory.

"_You_," ground out a voice. "_Trickster."_ It took Darcy a moment to realize the words came from the thing in front of her, which seemed to be recovering from whatever had thrown it off. She edged towards Jane and Thor, the closest allies, as it rose to two hind legs, snarling in the torchlight.

In build, the monster was similar to a grizzly bear, but a murky, charcoal-like color instead. Claws lined every extremity, and fangs and an uncomfortably-long tongue showed from within the wolf-like muzzle that was pivoting, taking them all in.

Belatedly, Darcy noted a few final, faint wisps of steam rising from the shoulders of her cloak. "Uh," she stuttered aloud without thinking, drawing the things yellow eyes to her. They narrowed in hatred, and the thing was moving before she knew what was happening.

A red cloak was abruptly filling her vision, and she waited for thunder and lightning to accompany it, before realizing that Thor's element likely didn't have "access" to this area of the palace, with no open air to channel it to Mjölnir. Thor seemed to realize the same thing as she did, and he made a noise of frustration, opting to try and tackle the monster instead. A flash of green magic filled the space, Loki trying to contribute as well in the cramped quarters even while he guarded the girl.

When the blinding mixture of magic abated, Darcy was on the floor again, blinking and disoriented. Loki was moving towards her, Celia in tow, and the creature was missing. Thor was extending a hand to Darcy to help her up, and Jane was – had to be with Celia, or something -

"Jane?" Darcy said with alarm, rising with Thor's help and whipping around to find her friend.

"Jane," Thor whispered, and Darcy followed his eyes, seeing only the cloak her friend had been wearing, abandoned on the damp, chilled floor.

A preternatural chill ran down Darcy's spine; what would the monster do with full-grown prey?

* * *

Krampus was sorely disappointed. And sore. The encounter had not gone at all as expected, and he was now nursing several burns, and singed fur, even as he surveyed his new prize.

But she reeked of chemicals, minerals, and metal – like Midgardian science, he believed they called it. Not like flowers, parchment and flesh, like the other mortal, before someone had seen fit to ward her with the very herbs that weakened him. In hindsight, it had been poor planning to target the one mortal who was surrounded by so much mystic knowledge, between the illusionist god and the walking library they called a healer. But what was done was done, and now, he still had the First Lady of Asgard in his clutches.

* * *

Jane, for her part, had remained remarkably calm, she thought, throughout the whole ordeal. She must have been hardened by the experience with the Aether, or the Destroyer, or maybe dealing with the Coup - take your pick of traumatizing scenarios. Remaining clinically scientific, distance from her predicament, she'd done her best to memorize the route the creature had taken her after ripping the cloak from her, trying to count turns in the dark, something to be constructive.

Something to block out the fact that a beast from legend had just abducted her in a creepy, dark tunnel, and that said beast had hideously-long claws that were wrapped around her. If they squeezed...

_Thor's coming, Thor's coming, _her inner bravery repeated determinedly.

When the creature deposited her on freezing-cold, slimy stone, she fought back a whimper of pain as she landed on her elbow. Dragging herself back until she hit a wall, Jane watched as the creature eyed her, seemingly satisfied with its take, and promptly disappeared down another tunnel.

Swallowing thickly, she fumbled within the pockets of the thin coat she'd had on under the cloak, brightening when her fingers hit something metallic.


	7. Chapter 7: The End

**Hi there, everyone still tuning in and reading. This is the end of the line, for this story and likely most of my writing for now. I succeeded in finishing Nanowrimo, and though it needs extensive editing, who would be down to pay to read my dribble? Ha ha! That being said, 7 is a very magically-significant number, and it felt right to end at this. **

**It's been a fantastic several years on this site and with my fellow Tasertricksters, so thank you all, and to all, just in time, a very good night. Merry Christmas, Happy Yule, have a good Krampusnacht, and happy holidays to all, no matter what you celebrate.**

* * *

If Surtur and his ill-fated coup of several seasons ago had succeeded, he would not be in this mess, Krampus mused, eyeing the children huddled on the slimy stone of his commandeered dungeon.

The Vanir and human huddled together pathetically, similar enough in physical appearance that neither seemed perturbed by the close contact with a technically-alien race.

Or, they were simply sufficiently frightened. Would add to the flavor, Krampus told himself, eyes traveling from them to the Muspel child, its flaming flesh dimmed by an hourly dousing of frigid water; limbs quaking, the odd whimper escaped its flaking lips. It would die soon, kept in such a manner, and he would have to take his leave of Asgard soon, to make it worth it. That fool, Heimdall, guarding the rainbow bridge above, knew nothing of the ways in and out of the Golden Realm.

All of the children were grimy and weak; this was not his usual manner of storage, but he hadn't the means to keep corpses fresh enough for his taste at the moment.

The human woman, the Lewis girl's mentor, he thought she was, was sorely disappointing in her apparent lack of fear. This was why he chose younger prey. He'd observed her since their arrival, displaying a keen interest in everything from the plant life in Asgard to how the lighting system was powered, asking questions incessantly of the thunder god. He'd felt her bright gaze on him since he had dumped her in the corner, observing and cataloguing data, no doubt. She would need to be dealt with.

No, it would have been far simpler had that damned coup succeeded. Perhaps if he had not simply watched the affair from a limb from Yggdrasil, but offered some sort of assistance…But that wolf's appearance had sealed his decision. He would not face that thing, with its odd, dogged loyalty towards the illusionist bastard. It was lucky it had not been seen in months, not even to intervene when Krampus took the time to dismantle the strange contraption that allowed the mortals' devices "reception". His courage had increased after that.

He could grudgingly respect, however, the subterfuge and conniving strategies that the trickster had employed in his attempt at taking Asgard. He'd even succeeded for a fair while, as Krampus had seen, nestled in nearby branches of Yggdrasil as he'd watched Asgard's goings-on carefully. The trickster would have made a fine ally in another life.

* * *

Darcy's necklace was made for Darcy to use, and Darcy only, Jane had realized hours ago. It was now solely a meager source of comfort, something to run her fingers over and along as she mused how best to attempt escape, hope diminishing with each passing minute. She was determined not to let her uncertainties and growing fear show in her expression, though; a show of bravado was necessary both to face Krampus with, and hopefully bolster the spirits of the various youngsters who were her fellow prisoners.

It was freezing, her joints feeling unwilling to try anything at the moment, and there were several children down here with her. The creature hadn't searched her, but she really hadn't had anything of use on her person back in the catacombs, anyways, prepared to leave the heavy lifting to Thor. What a mistake that had been, she now saw. And she couldn't just make a dash for it and risk angering the creature, or a swipe from those claws, steeped in centuries' worth of children's blood.

The creature – Krampus, had Darcy said? - had flinched upon contact with Darcy, but what had been different between them? Darcy had liberally sprayed on some of that stress relief perfume before they'd left, but Jane had laughed at the homeopathic remedies Eir was always forcing upon her, claiming their healing and protective powers. Now, it seems, there was some credibility to the concoctions. But too late. She could only hope for a distraction of the creature, and try to keep the young ones calm.

Jane Foster hated feeling helpless. Even when Malekith possessed the Aether, an unstoppable force – even when she herself had contained that destructive power – she'd felt that something could be done, that there was a solution. Eyeing the creature's movements around the dim, dripping dungeon he was apparently using as a base, she noted how he seemed to nurse his left arm.

A distant noise echoed down the tunnel towards them, and the creature spun on its feet, grimacing as its right claws crossed to clench against that left arm. Jane's eyes narrowed in thought, and she edged closer to the Muspel child, whose skin had dried from the horrible dousing it had received almost an hour ago, and which was now starting to emanate a faint glow again.

* * *

Loki was pacing, with no other strategies and nothing to do but ruminate on his failures, it seemed. He and Thor were outside the main hall, unable to face those whom they were failing to protect. He couldn't look Darcy in the eye, not while her mentor and ex-boss and friend was captured, locked in the bowels of the palace.

When first they had faced the being called Krampus, it was Frigga's gifts that had enabled them to spot his antics several hundred years ago, and Loki was now filled with a sense of inadequacy, that he had not the same skill and foresight to have seen the creature coming. Of course the rebuilding stages of a regime represented weakness and opportunity for an enemy with a grudge. Not to mention the fact there were dozens of vulnerable mortals in Asgard at the moment, with no knowledge of the dangers lurking in the corners of even the Golden Realm itself…What had they been thinking?

Lacking his mother's propensity for fate-gazing, the resentful fire he and Thor had lit within the creature was hard to predict. And unknowingly, Darcy's incredible success as an inter-realm diplomat had led to Krampus coming here and wreaking his particular sort of havoc.

Loki would just have to meet like with like. Hela could always use fresh beings in her domain, and he was certain she'd appreciate a sacrifice of such a bloodthirsty caliber.

"We should be _down _there again. We should be _searching _for her, brother! Jane would do the same for us!"

"That was far too close, you oaf. I will not risk Darcy and the child again."

"Oh, but it was perfectly fine to risk Jane, was it? She was _taken, _Loki!" Thor's gruff tones roared across the corridor they argued in, just outside of the great hall where most of Asgard had tried to convene for protection. The raven Huginn, who had arrived some time ago to apparently just watch the exchange, rasped out a caw in response. Loki rather thought he was cheering Thor on. "The two of us should be smiting the creature down, even as we stand here!"

"I am quite aware she was taken, and likely mistaken for Darcy. The creature likely knows her worth, regardless, and won't simply kill her. We have a chance," Loki hissed back, pacing the hall agitatedly. "But if we blast in there with hammer swinging, as the creature expects of you, there will no doubt be some trickery at play that will simply result in harm coming to Jane."

Thor was standing uncharacteristically still himself, and suddenly swung out with Mjölnir against the closest wall with an echoing boom. Startled cries sounded from inside the hall, and Freja came racing down the corridor, armor clinking and sword drawn.

"What in the blazes-?" She spat, eyes narrowing as she looked between the brothers. "Petty squabbles in the halls while Lady Jane is missing are not conducive to anyone's goal here, gentlemen. Kindly do _not _bring the palace down upon our heads, Odinson; we have guests, if nothing else."

Thor looked properly chastened, head hanging as he slowly pulled Mjölnir back from the shallow dent it had made in the stone palace wall. "I apologize, Freja. I am distraught at Jane's abduction."

"It was you fools' own bloody plan to travel into the catacombs with mortals in tow. You have no one to blame but yourselves, and it is not I you should be apologizing to." Freja's tone remained biting, her sword remaining unsheathed. She was done with playing paltry sentry while Asgard threatened to come down around them again.

"Instead, I think it is I you should be _listening _to," Freja continued, placing a hand on her hip and pinning the brothers with a cool stare.

"…We're listening," Loki managed after a brief glance exchanged with Thor, and both turned to Freja with eyebrows raised.

* * *

From deep within the caverns of Hel, its ruler and Asgard's ally was indeed watching. Idly twisting a gnarled lock of black hair around a bony finger, Hela's mouth twisted into a semblance of a grin. That creature would indeed make an interesting addition to her collection of souls. Odin and Frigga had been a mistake; their constance yammering on and on about duty and honor had done nothing but bring the rest of the souls towards their corner of Helheim, and now they all had ridiculous notions of redemption.

No, things were much more interesting with the living, which was often how it was nowadays, with Darcy Lewis picking apart Asgard and putting it back together. Hela admired the girl; her connections within the realm, her affability, and most of all, her complexion.

Yes, she could well imagine herself taking this difficult creature off their hands, but not to fix the situation for them; they had to do the gruntwork themselves, as she now expected of Lofi Laufeyson.

* * *

Christmas was tomorrow, and she had led dozens of individuals to the worst sort of Yuletide gathering they'd ever seen. Intergalactic grudges, folkloric monsters with grisly to-do lists, and the underlying prejudice towards otherworldly beings that humans held, all combined to form the realization that she had made such a mistake. Such a grave mistake, Darcy thought, pacing a corner of the grand hall with a hand crushed to her forehead. She would have to begin drafting her resignation if she survived this.

Quiet steps tapped against the stone from behind her, and Darcy swiveled, raking her hair back from her face as she spotted Eir. The healer was in yet another Midgardian hippie-inspired outfit, a kimono made of olive green yarn over a coarse beige tunic, with red chevron-patterned soft pants to complete the look. "You look very Yule," Darcy said blandly, hands falling to her sides.

"And you do not," Eir replied, sweeping to Darcy's side and tilting up her chin to get a good look at her face. "The beast did not harm you in the catacombs?"

"Just bumps and scrapes from falling on the ground several times," Darcy said bitterly. "It's Jane he got. Should've been me."

"I'm sure the creature agrees," Eir said distractedly, frowning at the fatigue she saw in Darcy's features. "You've got that perfume I gave you on your person, right?"

"What, my lavender spray? Yeah," Darcy replied, puzzled as she retrieved the small bottle from the bag still slung across her body.

"As well as being remedial, the blend in that is protective, and effective against most evils Asgard can conceive of," Eir said with a nod at the unobtrusive crystal bottle. "All-purpose use, if I recall the slogans from those television ads correctly…" Darcy smiled faintly, spritzing on more of the stuff before replacing the bottle in her bag. "It did something, but it didn't help Jane. And now I'm stuck here while the boys go off to war or whatever."  
"Your strength is in your wit, Darcy," Eir said soothingly, rubbing a hand across Darcy's shoulders. "I am not well-versed in the foes of Asgard, but you are by now well-educated in such things. Think. Think of this creature's motives, it's goals. You'll find a way to help."

With that, the quiet healer swept away to converse with Volstagg, who'd stepped in from the far end of the chamber, looking uncharacteristically weary.

A lyrical voice chimed from behind Darcy, and she turned around to see Idunn approaching now. Short, slim, with the sort of vibrant, gold hair you would only see in a French hairspray commercial, Idunn was one of the most impressive specimens of Asgard. Her skin lightly tanned, white teeth glinting in the light, she was the picture of health, the perfect keeper of the special apples grown in an orchard outside the palace walls that were part of the reason for Asgardian's longevity and vitality. Now, though, her expression was troubled, her gait nearly unsteady as she made her way towards Darcy.

"Are you alright, Idunn?" Darcy asked in concern, brows furrowing.

The small blonde reached her side, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes. "It has taken a lot out of me to ward the great hall, and as much of the palace as I can. But given the kind of elemental magic it is said that this creature employs, which, how do you mortals say it – "breaks the rules", I would not want to wager on our magic working. I would not let the lord Loki use any of his magic, as I'm sure he will need it in the confrontation against the monster Krampus…But it was still very taxing. I'm afraid I won't be of much more assistance." She looked upset at the admission, and Darcy moved forward to put an arm around the keeper of the orchards. "You've done more than I ever could, safeguarding this place and keeping everyone calm, Idunn. I just feel like I've caused all the trouble."

Together, they moved to sit on a bench pushed against one wall, side by side with their hands linked. Darcy's recuperation in Asgard had been owed as much to Idunn as Eir's assistance and remedies; the goddess' sunny demeanor and optimism were healing methods of their own. It was weird, to put it lightly, to see her so weakened and downcast.

"Asgard has not showed so much Yuletide spirit since the Lady Frigga was lost," Idunn said with a sad smile, nudging Darcy with an elbow. "We owe you much. The vengeful urges of a sad, spiteful creature are not your fault. Asgard had, has, and will have many enemies, just waiting for a moment to strike. You have done much in the rebuilding of our reputation among the nine realms."

"That's some pep talk," Darcy said dryly, smiling to soften the remark as she looked sideways at her friend.

"We do not speak without meaning here," Idunn said with a wink. "Now, have you come up with any strategy yet yourself?"

"The…Krampus showed some sort of interest in me, I think. I think he got Jane by mistake when he meant to catch me. I'm not sure why, but maybe I can use that, use myself as bait somehow."

"Where?" Idunn frowned.

"If we could get him into the open, his tricks seem to falter. Like Loki – straightforward fighting isn't this thing's gig," Darcy said slowly, thinking hard. "A quick, hard battle would be the best thing, I think. As much as I've read on the thing and seen it in action, I don't think it can disappear in a cloud of smoke like, say, Loki. I think what you see is what you get, and most of its power comes from speed, or something."

"Exactly what I said," called a commanding voice, and the pair looked up to Thor and Loki striding towards them, led purposefully by Freja. The blonde Valkyrie's hair was done up in her usual coronet of braids, kept out of her face for combat purposes, and her sky-blue armor looked as battle-ready as ever. Her sword was out, and the crowds in the great hall quickly cleared to make a path for her.

"The beast needs flushing out of those tunnels," Freja said as they stopped before the two seated women. Darcy squeezed Idunn's hand one more time, and rose to move to Loki's side, scanning his expression. He seemed content to let Freja have the reins on whatever plan they'd devised out in the hall, and squeezed Darcy's hand in a silent, encouraging gesture.

Great, because she herself didn't have much of a plan yet.

They formed a loose semi-circle in the hall, and the Warriors Three and Sif also headed their way, the latter hanging back, of course, and focusing only on Thor.

"Create a ruckus in the tunnels, use a tracking spell to move behind the creature when it leaves whatever disgusting den it has created for itself," Freja explained, sword glinting as she motioned with the deadly blade. Volstagg's eyes widened as it whistled within reach of him, and he sidestepped back to Darcy's other side with a clearing of his throat. Fandral, however, looked enraptured by the motion. "Once the children and Lady Jane are clear, get the thing above ground somehow. Get it into the grounds, and see what we can do with it there. Einherjar at every exit, the Great Hall staying closed with Idunn and Sif in here." The brunette warrior sniffed a little at the mention of mere sentry duty for herself, but Freja had her stiffening with a glance. Not liking Darcy Lewis was apparently a sure way to alienate yourself these days, and the ambassador blinked at the subtle display.

"Volstagg, Fandral?" The two warriors snapped to attention themselves, Fandral going a bit googly-eyed at Freja's commanding tones, if Darcy was reading him right. "You two need to get into the forest, find our furred friend from before. Elemental magic against elemental magic is the best strategy now, besides butchering the monster, but if we can't get close because it unleashes some trickery, our luck runs out." Volstagg might have whimpered at the thought of summoning Fenrir again, but Darcy would never tell, just patted the warrior's elbow – all that she could reach – comfortingly.

* * *

Fenrir came easily, once it was explained that Darcy Lewis was in danger; none showed the wolf such respect and lack of fear simultaneously, and it could appreciate her for that. It was known by now that the wolf was not found unless it wanted to be, witnessed by the fact that more than a year had passed since it had made itself visible. The rugged woods behind the palace housed a good many things, but luckily the wolf found them, once again, before they had encountered many unsavory creatures in the dimming woodwork.

Padding slowly behind the warrior Volstagg, who was nonetheless trying to keep well ahead of the wolf, Fenrir scented the air every few paces, hoping it would identify the creature before it was upon them, if the plan worked, that is.

* * *

The noise she had heard earlier repeated itself, but more forcefully, and now Jane could hear a faint crackling noise reverberating through the tunnel network. It was impossible to tell from here where the noise originated from, and she hoped it was the same for the beast standing opposite. The gnarled tufts of fur that she supposed passed for ears on the monster were perked as he stood still, apparently listening too; the children whimpered, and she finally edged over the remaining few feet to crouch between the Muspel and the other two. Her jeans and thin windbreaker that she'd had on were little protection down here in the dank, cold cellar, or whatever they were in, and she set her teeth against the chill.

Krampus flicked his eerie yellow eyes over a shoulder at her, but her actions were apparently now a lesser priority to him, and he darted out of one of the honeycombed tunnels he had to choose from. Blue light flickered across the stone walls of one of the tunnels a moment later, and then another, igniting hope in Jane herself.

"Do you think you can do it?" She murmured hoarsely to the Muspel child next to her, who had fully ignited in the absence of the monster. It nodded, standing with what looked like a grimace on its fiery features, but moved determinedly towards the entrance of the tunnel the monster had left through. With a little screech, the small fire demon bent over, placing flaming hands to the moist stone. Despite the moisture, the stone caught fire, shooting out from the child's contact with the floor and racing up the walls.

In Jane's experience, earthy monsters disliked fire. Everything from Frankenstein's monster to the creatures in Bambi had been frightened by it, their actions becoming panicked at the first flickering. She hoped Krampus was similar.

Next, the Muspel child moved to the other remaining tunnels, setting their entryways ablaze, with the exception of one, the one furthest from the exit Krampus had taken. Jane stood on shaky legs, supporting the Vanir children under one arm, and the human under the other. The latter, a boy, was very weak now, and Jane had to support most of his weight. The Vanir girl seemed better off, perhaps because of her heritage, and moved out from Jane to take up on the boy's other side and support him out. Jane smiled, murmuring encouragement to them, and they followed the Muspel child down the final tunnel, the demon's flaming flesh lighting their way.

She sincerely hoped whoever was in charge of luck was on their side tonight. Or was it morning?

* * *

Freja's plan was working, they thought. It was pretty hard to tell. Thor was sending what blasts he could down into the catacombs, Loki using his magic to amplify the blasts. But at a certain point, too much damage could simply bring all of the tunnels crumbling down, perhaps on top of the beast, but more likely on top of Jane Foster and the beast's captives.

The chief of the Valkyries seemed to realize that too. "Stop after this one," Freja muttered, drawing her sword. "We'll pry it out." They were again at one of the sources of the tunnels, below the kitchens; Freja would take one way, and the brothers another. The kitchens had but a short hallway until they opened into an open-air commons area, for ventilation, so it wouldn't be hard to usher the creature outside, or so they hoped.

With a nod, Freja and three of her Valkyries, their wings furled in the tight confines, darted into the right-side of the tunnel. With a responding nod, Thor and Loki took their own, their shoulders again mashing as each tried to go at the same time.

"I ought to go first, my magic will work _best _down there-" Loki ground out, while Thor simultaneously growled "_Jane is down there-" _

At last, Loki slipped ahead of Thor, a fall of green light swiveling at his fingertips to light their way. Thor was muttering Norse curses under his breath, hefting Mjölnir from one hand to the other as he followed the trickster.

* * *

Freja had her sword drawn in one hand, a blazing torch in the other, and paused at a noise further down the tunnel. It was a whimpering noise; had they already hurt the monster? Possibly, but not likely, given that they'd only sent cursory blasts of lightning down what areas they could reach.

Holding a fist up to her fellow warriors, who paused like her, Freja took a moment to listen more intently. It only grew louder, and she frowned, passing the torch to one of her Valkyries, who stepped astride of her and illuminate the path.

"Wounded, perhaps, Milady?" Her fellow Valkyrie ventured, and Freja shrugged, certain only that something was ahead of them. Tentatively, they moved forward, Freja easing into a battle stance as they went.

The tunnel was luckily wide enough her to permit them to walk two abreast now, and when it came to an awkward corner, a faint glow was visible against the wall. Freja plastered herself flat against the wall, nodding at the torchbearer to leap around the corner as she peeled herself around it, sword held high.

What greeted her in the glinting of torchlight off her sword blade was not the murky, furred beast she'd come to expect, but the frightened gasps of Jane Foster and several children. Wide eyes flickered in the flames both from her torch and the ablaze skin of a small Muspel child who'd apparently been leading their party.

"My Lady Jane," Freja said at last, stuttering over her words as she moved to sheath her sword and sketch a hasty bow. "We did not expect to find you so quickly, or so well-"

"These children aren't well, Freja," Jane broke in, ushering the two in her possession towards awaiting Valkyrie arms. "We have to get out of here – it's in one of the tunnels."

Freja nodded. "We hope to flush it out – my lords Thor and Loki are in the other tunnels."

"Together?" Jane asked with a wince, eyes rolling at Freja's responding nod. "We've at least got to get out of here, then."

The Vanite child and mortal were now wrapped in the borrowed cloaks of a couple Valkyrie, the unfortunate Muspel child left without any protection, since they hadn't anything with them as effectively fire-resistant as the clothing the Muspels made themselves. It didn't seem to mind, though, already looking better to Jane's eyes than when Krampus had kept it drenched with foul-smelling rainwater, or whatever that had been, and trotted cheerfully ahead with Freja as they went back the way they had come.

Cautiously, Freja emerged into the wide-open storeroom, eyes darting everywhere she could see in the dim light. It was evening by now, any light coming in from windows now much diminished. Hefting her torch higher, she scanned the room, thankfully as bare as they had left it earlier, and waved the rest of them forward. No sound came from the other end of the tunnel, the way Thor and Loki had gone, and she frowned at the dark entryway.

"The Muspel child – do you have a name, by the way? – guided us out," Jane explained. "Set the other tunnels on fire, and we just headed down the one that seemed safest."

"Brenna," the child muttered in its croaky, flaming tones. "Brenna was a great help to me," Jane said firmly. "We should get her back to Surtur and his people."

Wondering idly how she'd figured out the Muspel was indeed female, Freja led the way out of the kitchens and to an open walkway that could either lead further into the palace, or out into the grounds. Since the latter was intended for the monster, Freja ushered Jane and the children in the direction of the Great Hall, spying Darcy and the Warriors Three out in the grounds as planned. The Wolf was there, too, looking tame as anything as Darcy spoke quietly to it.

"Is that Darcy?" Jane asked, having appeared at Freja's shoulder. Startled, the Valkyrie replied in the affirmative, and the petite scientist, looking filthy and rough from her stint as Krampus' prisoner, edged past the Valkyrie and started moving towards Darcy.

At a wail of dismay from the children who were being led away, Jane waved a friendly hand and assured them she would be back soon. Freja stood watch, up on the cobblestoned walkway, one eye on Jane and the other making sure her warriors took the children back to the great hall. Her sword stayed unsheathed, edged in the direction of the dark tunnels.

* * *

"Darce!" Darcy turned from having a word with Fenrir, to an unbelievable sight. Jane Foster, looking worse than when she hadn't seen Thor for two years, was racing towards her. Jane, who'd been kidnapped by a dark Pagan entity mere hours before. Either luck was finally on their side, or the creature had something odd up its sleeve. She was hoping it was the former.

The two women met in a fierce embrace, Darcy nearly incoherent in her joy at seeing her mentor alive and well, and so soon.

"How-?" Darce was uncharacteristically at a loss for words, even more so when Jane pushed her necklace into her hand, intact and untarnished. "Sorry I forgot to return that," Jane said with a feeble grin. "Just glad you returned yourself with it," Darcy shot back, with another quick hug. "Now get yourself inside, and make sure Idunn is okay. She didn't look too well earlier." Idunn was a favorite of Jane's as well, and the scientist nodded before turning to trudge back up to the palace. Fandral darted along with her as escort, probably hoping to gain some points with Freja.

* * *

"You're doing it _wrong_-" "How is there a _wrong _way to illuminate our path with _my _own magic, pray tell, Thor?"

"Can't you summon the damned creature out of hiding?"

"I think you know my magic better than after _centuries-"_

The bickering was so intense by the point they ran into the creature that it was a wonder they noticed it at all. Krampus certainly noticed them, and with a roar of rage, tackled Thor, who had by now taken the lead. A blur of dark fur and crimson cape was all Loki could see a for a moment, and Thor's muffled roar of rage was deafening. Stepping back from the fray, summoning a spell to his hand, Loki paused, looking at the bracer he had enchanted to communicate with Darcy. Her face was there now, lit by the sunset outside, and he flicked a nervous glance back up at the fight, which Thor _appeared _to have the upper hand in for a moment.

"Darcy?" He said quickly, bringing the bracer close to his face and knowing he would've looked like an idiot anywhere else.

"Jane's out, the kids are out. Get _yourself _out, Fenrir is here," she said quickly, eyes flicking up as if she knew the scuffle was ongoing in front of him. Then the bracer went blank, and Loki launched the magic from his hand, hoping it hit its mark.

If the smell of burning fur a moment later was any indication, it had, and he sighed in relief, trying to aim another spell. Thor yelled in anguish before he could hurl it, though, and the thunder god emerged from the wrestling match clutching at his side, where crimson that was not of his cape now spread across his armor.

Krampus, now standing on its own across the tunnel from the two brothers, seemed to gauge who it would be easier to make its way past. Coldly-assessing yellow eyes, identical to the pair they'd faced on Midgard centuries ago, calculated Loki's reflex time, and then the creature took its chance and leaped.

He was ready, already flinging himself back to take the momentum from the creature's leap. It took him down with a solid impact of fur and claws, and Loki found himself pinned underneath a mass of enraged monster. Snarling, the creature swiped at his face, Loki narrowly dodging the blow, only to have it land on his shoulder instead. An agonized yell left his lips, even as the claws came away bloodied, and the creature _smiled_, if that was what it could be called, yellowing fangs revealed by the furred mouth peeling back.

"Hurts, does it not, trickster?" the thing ground out with its rough voice, pulling back for a killing blow. "It would be fitting to leave you scarred as I am, but I would rather leave you _dead-"_

And then another voice joined the fray, breathless and pained. "If Loki is to die," Thor managed, "then it will be by _my _hand, monster!" Another spurt of lightning left Mjölnir, and even with limited capabilities, the direct hit was effect, blowing Krampus forward and off of Loki, who accepted Thor's hand and heaved himself to his feet. Both turned in time to see the gray mass scurry out of sight, and they nodded at each other, hefting hammer and dagger alike before setting off in pursuit. The thing was at least heading in the right direction, but it was headed towards Darcy, something that wasn't good either way.

* * *

"I sensed some sort of ancient being entering the realm some time ago," the wolf admitted when he and Darcy were several paces away from the other. "I considered it not my problem unless it made threatening gestures…"

"This definitely counts, and I appreciate your assistance, again," Darcy said gratefully, rubbing a hand into the large wolf's thick coat. "I don't pull out the big guns unnecessarily, but I think Thor and Loki upset this thing a while ago."

"Whom have they _not _upset centuries before?" The wolf's tone was wry, even for its dry, toneless voice, and Darcy conceded the point with a nod and nervous smile. Her message had seemed to translate correctly to Loki – he'd nodded and responded to her words, which she'd count as a win, but they weren't talking dogs herding sheep here. This was wresting a being of darkness and the element of surprise, out from its hiding place and into the open grounds of Asgard. There was every chance this could go wrong.

"It will not," the wolf murmured beside her, in another of its odd moments where it appeared to read her mind. Trying to subtly edge away and get some air, Darcy nodded, looking back up at the palace and at the high windows of the great hall. The damn Secretary of _State _was in there, along with how many other inter-realm dignitaries? A lot was on this right now; it was a good thing Fenrir had large shoulders. She wasn't sure hers could take much more.

A blast of activity sounded up the sloping grass from them, and Darcy looked up to see Freja leap into action with her sword; the Valkyrie was pretty impressive, she had to admit, justifying Fandral's hopeless pining completely.

A flash of her sword, a yell from what could have been Thor, and a blur of gray was rushing unsteadily away from the palace. Volstagg started, grabbing Darcy and dragging her away from Fenrir's dangerous side, but the gray blur had paused. Yellow eyes had locked onto Darcy, and narrowed. "_You. Girl,_" it growled, before springing her direction.

Volstagg cursed, dragging Darcy back and hefting his axe, as Hogun dashed to his side and brandished his wicked-looking mace. Fenrir was gone, and Darcy blinked rapidly, scanning her surroundings. "F…?" Her outcry was cut off when Krampus rammed into the two warriors in front of her, claws immediately raking deep into the handle of Volstagg's weapon. There was no time to think – she scrambled backwards, swearing when she tripped and rolled backwards on the steep grass.

Flinging herself upright, trying to gain her bearings in the dimming light, Darcy found herself face to face with the monster. A quick glance to the side showed Hogun somehow down already, and Volstagg struggling to rise on an injured leg.

"L-Loki?" Darcy's yell was shrill, far more shrill than she'd like it to be, but the creature was somehow more dangerous than before. No longer concerned with leavings its marks intact for devouring later, it was fighting with a fury she hadn't seen before.

"What do you want?" Darcy let out with a yelp as she took one step backwards and then another, the monster matching her step for step.

"I want my legend back," came the deep response from the gnarled mass of fur and fang. "My prey, my _power. _Can you give them to me, little mortal? Can you restore my prestige and might as you have for the Golden Realm? I think not."

"Uh, if it's a PR agent you're wanting…" Darcy stammered, eyeing Thor and Loki racing down the hill behind Freja, whose sword was swinging in her battle rage.

A swipe from Krampus' claws had everyone pausing, and Darcy gulped in the sudden stillness; the creature was bearing over her now, blocking out her vision except for its matted fur and stinking, moist breath.

"I-" She managed, before another fierce growl cut her off. "I'm sure you're not used to reasoning with your, erm, prey, but maybe you could attempt to do so with me? I guess I just don't understand, in this day and age, a monster who senselessly kills, and _children_, at that."

A roar had Darcy scuttling back another step; she was now standing on a rough outcropping of rock that formed its own ledge on the grounds, and the drop was about twenty feet. She dared a glance back, seeing that and closing her eyes tight before turning back to the monster. "You're still mentioned on Midgard, you know."

That seemed to lend the monster pause, and its head even cocked to the side as if contemplating her remark. "The, uh, heathens, er, Pagans, um, they go to Stonehenge at the winter solstice and, um…" She was pretty sure she was mixing up lore and terminology at this point, but what she'd said was true; in fact, she'd seen a novelty Krampus t-shirt online a few weeks ago during a holiday shopping trip back on Earth, but she hadn't made the child-eater connection until recently.

"Heathens?" The voice ground out, before a brown blur had rushed in from the side, knocking Krampus back and away from Darcy. A high-pitched keening noise rent the air, muffled barks and growls matching it.

Darcy stepped forward just in time for a spray of blood to spatter across the ground in front of her, and she stepped back with a squeak into someone else. "I'm here," was all Loki said, pulling her back and to his side, green light flaring in his other hand.

"I don't think the wolf's going to need help, however mad that thing was," Volstagg said, finally limping up to them. Loki guided Darcy carefully away from the edge of the rock, the ambassador's horrified eyes glued to the tumbling mass of fur before them.

Fenrir finally rolled off to a side, mouth bloodied but something triumphant in his expression, somehow. Krampus was a flattened mass of charcoal fur, heaving with its last difficult breaths. Spurred on by something, she wasn't sure what – perhaps pity – Darcy stepped forward out of Loki's grasp and moved to the creature's side.

"Technically, he didn't eat anyone in Asgard yet," she said slowly and loudly.

"Not that we know of," she could hear Fandral mutter darkly.

"Darcy, this creature has ruined everything – your preparations, put everyone in Asgard in danger – " Loki called out behind her, but she put out a hand and he fell silent. She edged close to Fenrir to keep Loki calm, and the wolf escorted her forward to the dying monster.

Yellow eyes, clouding with pain and death, regarded her silently as she approached.

"To finish me," the creature breathed through broken fangs and a throat clogged with blood. It looked as if Fenrir had torn through the abdomen, likely renting most of his organs…If the monster had that sort of thing.

"I just – this wasn't personal. It's like putting down a bear who wanders into a neighborhood – but you knew what you were up to. I'm sorry to put an end to a legend, and…Um, such a figure of…worship," Darcy said unsteadily, realizing belatedly that there was indeed a long slash down her arm.

The creature snorted, or choked, in a derisive gesture. The yellow orbs rolled with annoyance at the pitiful mortal trying to talk it through its final moments; death would be welcome now.

Loki, Thor and the other had by now moved closer, Loki clicking his tongue in realization that Darcy did indeed have a bleeding gash in her arm. A flash of green and the pain lessened, but her eyes were still on the monster, lying prostrate, claws extending and retreating feebly.

"I can take him," came a cold, smooth voice from behind them, and everyone turned to see none other than Hela, mistress of Helheim, approaching. She was in a fashionable winter coat this time, a dark plum concoction trimmed with pure white fur, a matching velvet dress under it as she slunk towards them.

"You had the idea, did you not?" She inquired of Loki, who nodded slowly.

"I won't say it will put the beast out of its misery, but, well, it may in a way," the goddess of the dead muttered, moving closer to pace around the prone Krampus.

Fenrir had been inching away from Darcy at the sight of the witch, and Hela looked up in time to make eye contact with the wolf. A long glance, and then a slight curtsy on her part, eyes closing and head inclining in an odd gesture of respect, and then the wolf was melting into the trees a few paces away.

Darcy nodded her assent, burrowing into Loki's side, remembering the last time Hela had taken a less-than-willing victim to Helheim.

But it was different this time; the goddess paused above the monster, leaning over it without a single flicker of fear in her features. She ran a hand down its torso, crimson smoke starting to waft around the pair.

"More stories are told of the dead than the living," was all she said in her dry, cold voice, but the smoke wafted up to conceal both her and Krampus; when it dissipated, the last of the sun's rays for the day showed nothing where both had been a moment before but a dark spot on the ground.

* * *

December 25th; Darcy wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the covers when she woke up that morning, particularly since she'd been curled against a warm Loki beneath her comfortable mint bedspread. Nevertheless, she stretched, wincing at the pain from her left arm, sliced by the creatures claws and one of the few remains of its work in the world. Thor had a similar wound in his side, Volstagg, in his leg; Eir had swiftly seen that all of them were treated effectively, and sent them to their respective bedchambers last night.

The children had all been returned to their parents, assured that Ambassador Lewis and the Kings Thor and Loki had all had a hand in the destruction of the monster that had haunted Asgard. Christmas was back on, and final decorations were being laid as of late last night, Darcy checking in quickly with Kvasir before she turned in for the night, sporting a snowy bandage on her forearm.

Something about the whole affair was still bothering her; while it was a bloodthirsty mythical monster they had dealt with, Krampus' motives were remarkably human; the desire to be commemorated, remembered through the ages. Santa Claus was still a major thing; why not his darker counterpart? Loki had told her not to worry, that now the creature's tales would certainly be updated in Asgardian lore, and likely in newspaper across Midgard, once those journalists all got home.

She had to let it go at that, and turned instead to making the foreign Christmas a fun celebration for their guests.

Celia Jefferson and her family had great fun aiming roasted chestnuts at Volstagg's open mouth, who was now immobilized by a legcast and couldn't be happier about all the attention he was receiving. Freja and Fandral were forced to succumb to the effects of mistletoe when Darcy had scrounged up a sprig from somewhere and strategically tied it up in the doorway of the weapons room. Jane and Thor had found an old sled somewhere and were taking Muspels, Jötuns, Vanites, and mortals alike on rides through the grounds, which Freyr had again made extremely snowy to add to the atmosphere.

Darcy and Loki had curled up in the throne room, stoked the fire high, and nursed identical mugs of cocoa on a plush rug in front of the hearth.

"I still think it's weird that the book opened to that particular page," Darcy muttered at one point, picking at the threads of the blanket over her shoulders. As if in response, the flames in the fire crackled, rising higher for a brief moment before settling again.

Loki stared hard at the flames. "It's all in the fuel. Something on the wood."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," she responded with a good-natured jab of her elbow.

"All in all, a successful Yule, wouldn't you agree?"

"All's well that ends well," she quoted from something, clinking her mug to his. "At least no one got blood on the throne this time, or busted down the front doors."

* * *

By January 1st, Darcy's resignation was written. She would now serve as the first "consular staff" in Asgard, and no longer as the official ambassador. She recommended someone with more experience be given the position, and she would simply help from the sidelines. She was content to marshall the woodland forces when something went wrong, she thought with a smile, looking out her window as she penned the letter and spotting the figure of a large wolf skulking along the tree line of the grounds.

It was good to have friends in high places – or low, she supposed, with a glance towards the grass of the grounds that was still blackened where Hela had made both her dramatic appearance and exit. Must be able to network, that had been somewhere in the job requirements of this position. She supposed she'd done alright.

With a nod to the wolf out the window in the distance, whom she knew could probably still see her if he tried, she set down her pen after penning a flourishing signature, stretching her arms above her head. Stashing the letter in a drawer of her cute, mint-colored vintage desk, she headed down to the great hall, where Thor was due to give some parting speech to the dignitaries. Negotiations had gone well, after the hiccups before Christmas, and the partnership with Jötunheim was on schedule.

When she returned hours later, the letter was open on her desk, as if someone had been reading it; but it didn't look tampered with otherwise.

"I suppose if you'd disagreed, it would be torn up and in the fire," Darcy said loudly, looking up and around the room.

Her chandelier seemed to bob in acknowledgement, and Darcy rolled her eyes, sealing the letter and preparing it for postage on Earth.

* * *

**And that's all she wrote. Have a great new year, everyone. Thank you so very much for your kind comments and support over the years. ~Bon**


End file.
